A/N: The title of this chapter is from a quote from the wonderful book The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. The entire quotation is (if I remember it correctly): "My darling child, never be ashamed to love."

One last thing: if you love Harry/Ron as much as I do, I discovered another great story on using this pairing: "Fitted Edges" by LardenceLover. The tone is very sardonic, yet sweet, and I just love it. So do yourself a favor and read it sometime.

Chapter 2: Never Be Ashamed To Love

Come September, Ron had far more than just the expected stress of new classes, homework, Quidditch, and even Voldemort to worry about: now he was forced into the hellish experience of re-examining his sexuality. He could come to no conclusion, except...

"I must have just turned gay," he thought. How could he have gone from being so excited about his new relationship with Hermione, to now being infatuated – no, he had to admit that it was deeper than just infatuation – with Harry? He still liked Hermione; he still found her attractive and a joy to be around. No matter what he did with her, whether it was kissing or just hanging out, he felt content and safe. But what he felt when he was around Harry was something much more intense than just contentment. Even just walking next to Harry through the halls of Hogwarts, or engaging in a battle of wizard chess with him in the Gryffindor common room, it was as if a new passion was awakened inside him, one he'd never been aware of before. Wasn't falling in love with someone supposed to be an exciting experience? It was just his luck that instead of happiness, he would be riddled with agony and confusion.

Trying to sort it all out in his head caused him a lot of anxiety – anxiety so apparent that both his girlfriend and the new object of his affection noticed right away. When Harry came down for breakfast by himself one morning a few weeks after the start of the term, Hermione asked in a concerned tone,

"Where's Ron? Is he okay?"

"I went to get him up, but he said he didn't feel like eating anything this morning and he told me to let him sleep in," Harry said as he scanned the headlines of the Daily Prophet. Hermione looked alarmed.

"Ron didn't feel like eating anything? Ron, who has his mouth full half the time I'm trying to have a conversation with him?"

"Yeah, I thought it sounded odd, but-"

"Harry, something must really be bothering him. He's been acting so withdrawn lately, haven't you noticed?"

"Actually, yeah, I have," Harry said thoughtfully, putting down the newspaper. A moment later he added, looking troubled, "I dunno, but I think it might be something that I did. I sort of blew up at him awhile ago. We called a truce, but I guess he could still be upset about it."

"If you really worked it out, he wouldn't still be mad," Hermione pointed out. "No, there's something else that's weighing on him, I can just sense it. He's even been acting odd with me lately."

"Odd how?"

Hermione flushed, and paused as if she was trying to decide whether to reveal something that she found embarrassing. "He...he hardly touches me anymore," she said at last, a sad look coming to her brown eyes. "And I can feel his whole body tense up every time I kiss him or try to hold his hand…it's very awkward. It never used to be that way." She swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. "Maybe it's not you he's mad at. Maybe it's me."

"Can't be," Harry reassured her, reaching out and patting her shoulder. "What in the world have you ever done to him? Look, I don't know what's eating him but we should talk to him, and soon."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "Do you mind, Harry, if I speak to him first? You know I don't want to exclude you, but I'm his girlfriend, and all..."

"Be my guest. You're better at that stuff than Ron or me, anyway."

Ron not only skipped breakfast that day but his classes as well. This behavior was highly unusual for him, even though he wasn't as studious as Hermione. The several weeks of struggling to make sense of his new feelings were really starting to get to him. He felt guilty because of how distant he'd been acting toward Hermione, and at the same time he felt like he was living a lie by pretending to have feelings of mere friendship for Harry. So when he awoke on that grey, drizzly morning, he decided that instead of putting himself in a situation where he'd once again feel like a liar and a terrible boyfriend, he would spend the day by himself.

He stayed in his bed until about eleven o'clock, after a few hours of sleeping fitfully, waking, then sleeping fitfully again. The thought entered his mind of sneaking to the kitchens and getting some food from the house elves, but his stomach was in too many knots for him to eat anything except the stash of candy from Honeydukes that he kept under his mattress. So, still in his pyjamas, he sat on the window seat, nibbling at his Chocolate Frogs and staring forlornly through the window at the falling rain outside.

After an hour or so, he began to get bored and wondered why Harry and Hermione hadn't come looking for him yet. He had been certain that they would be alarmed when he didn't show up for classes – or maybe they thought he'd been acting like such a wanker that they didn't care anymore? What if he lost the two people who meant the most to him?

I've got to stop sitting here worrying and feeling sorry for myself, or I'll drive myself mad, Ron thought, shaking his head of uncombed red hair. He noticed that the rain was finally beginning to let up, and the tiniest sliver of sunshine was piercing through the overcast sky. And then the idea occurred to him that now might be a good time to practice his Keeping skills. The first Quidditch game of the school year, between Gryffindor and their archrival house, was coming up. Despite all his other worries, he would feel even worse if he played poorly. No, he wouldn't let himself lose the game for Gryffindor on top of everything else.

He grabbed his Cleansweep Seven, a bat, and a quaffle from underneath his bed, and put on a pair of Wellington boots. Instead of bothering to change out of his pyjamas he simply covered them with the robe he used for playing Quidditch in the rain, and set out to the field. Luckily, the weather prevented any of the teams from coming to the field to practice, so he had the entire wide open space to himself. He put a spell on the quaffle so that it would fly toward the goalposts on its own, and so he was free to practice his blocking with the bat. The rush of soaring through the air after the quaffle and whacking it with all his strength was an excellent method of releasing all his bottled-up energy and emotions. For an hour or so, he almost forgot about the girlfriend he was not sure he wanted to date anymore but still cared deeply about, and the boy who had been inflicting so much misery on him just by existing and being desirable.

And then he spotted her. From where she stood, she looked as small as a queen from a wizarding chess board, but he could still recognize her: Hermione. She was waving at him, beckoning him to come down. Ron sighed. Would he never find even the most momentary escape? Knowing that she wasn't going to wait to talk to him, he reluctantly flew down.

"Ron, I've been looking all over for you," she cried as he touched the ground. "Harry and I were so worried when you didn't come to breakfast – or to class! We're getting closer and closer to our N.E.W.T.s, you know, so you really shouldn't be missing any of your classes..."

"You crazy woman, we don't even have N.E.W.T.s until the end of next year - and besides, why didn't you come for me sooner if you were so worried?" Ron's irritated tone of voice masked how relieved he really was. So they were looking for me after all – I guess they can't hate me that much, he thought hopefully.

"We didn't come for you sooner because we were in class, you git!" Hermione's response took him completely by surprise. She'd never called him such a rude name before, no matter how much he'd annoyed her in the past. He stared at her wide-eyed as she continued, "And during lunch hour Harry went to your room, but you weren't there, so it was our guess as to where you could possibly be. Then Dean Thomas mentioned that he'd seen someone with red hair practicing on the Quidditch field, and he thought it was a Weasley, so we figured it must be you." She moved closer toward him, put a firm hand on his shoulder, and looked him straight in the eyes. "Ronald, can you please tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing – I just didn't feel like going to classes today, that's all," he said lamely. "We had Divination and Double Potions, so can you blame me?" Someone who wasn't even half as smart as Hermione could have seen through his lie, and he knew it.

"Come off it, Ron. I know how much you hate Snape and Trelawney, but you've never skipped their classes before, except when you were ill and you're clearly not ill now. There's something – or someone – else you're avoiding." She paused, and when she spoke again she no longer sounded accusatory. "I was hoping that, even if you didn't talk to anyone else, you'd come to me about it," she said, her every word full of pain.

Bloody hell, Ron silently cursed himself, I've got to stop this. I have to tell her the truth, because I can't keep hurting her like this. But if I tell her...it might hurt her more.

He looked into her dark eyes, which were full of anticipation as she waited for him to respond.

"There...is...something...I've been wanting to tell you, 'Mione," he said slowly, stumbling over the words. He was already breaking into a nervous sweat. "But I was afraid to...because..."

"Is it something I did?" Hermione broke in.

"No! GODS, no!" His horrified response seemed to grant her some relief. Her entire body relaxed, and then she asked,

"Well, what is it then?"

"I don't know if you'll understand. I'm so sorry, but I don't think this is something you'll just shrug off when you hear it," he pleaded. "It's made me afraid that I might lose you, and Harry...there's a side of me even I didn't know about until recently, so I don't know how you can accept it if I can't...and I'm so afraid that it'll just end up hurting you..."

"RON!" she silenced his babbling. "You're not going to lose me and Harry! What 'side' of you are you talking about? Just tell me!"

"Hermione, I don't think that I'm straight."

There it was. Finally, it was out – no more hiding. If she accepted him, or if she cursed him forever, he would have to deal with it. It was out of his hands.

"You're gay?" she exclaimed, her mouth forming a perfect O-shape. It was obvious that out of all the things she thought she might hear, this was not one of them.

"Yeah, I guess. Well, I dunno. That's what I've been trying to figure out." He felt very uncomfortable. He shuffled his feet and stared down at the damp ground, waiting for her to say something.

To his shock, he found himself squeezed inside the tightest hug Hermione's small arms could muster.

"Oh, Ron," she cried, "how could you think that you'd lose us over something as inconsequential as all that?"

"But...but..." he stuttered. He was glad she wasn't crying or recoiling in disgust at his announcement, but this didn't make sense at all. "I'm dating you! We've been together for a couple of months now! How can you find out that your boyfriend's probably gay and be just fine with it?"

"Well..." She let go of him and looked him in the face. "It is surprising, I'm not going to pretend that I expected this. And I know it means that you and I can't be together anymore, but..." A brief look of sadness and disappointment passed over her face before she went on, "...but I know it's not your fault, and that you didn't plan for this to happen. I need to be supportive of you right now – not make you feel worse."

Ron shook his head. It was unbelievable how unselfish, how wonderful Hermione could be during the time when he thought that he would be breaking her heart. He gave her a quick hug to show his gratitude.

"So you'll be okay, Hermione? I promise, I didn't know when I started dating you. I only started realizing it in the past month..."

Hermione gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I mean, I really liked you, and I liked dating you until you started acting strange. But now I know why you were acting that way. And as long as you and I stay friends, I haven't really lost anything."

"I really liked dating you too," Ron confessed. "That's why I've been so confused about the whole bloody thing. It feels like one moment I was with you and I was happy, but then all of a sudden I turned gay."

"No one just turns gay, Ron," Hermione disagreed, laughing a little. "Love potions may exist, but there's no spell or elixir you can give someone to change their sexual orientation. Maybe it just took you this long to realize it. Or maybe you're not gay, but bisexual...like David Bowie, the Muggle rock star."

"David who? What do I care about some Muggle rock star?"

"Well, he fancies both girls and blokes too," Hermione explained. "There are a lot of people who are like that – a lot more than you'd think. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you don't have to call yourself anything if you're not sure. Just like who you like, and be happy. By the way..." A smile crept onto her face. "Do you like anyone right now?"

Ron's face reddened, much to Hermione's delight.

"Oooh, so you do? You'll tell me who it is, won't you?"

"You make it sound like it's so exciting," he said quietly, "but it's really not. I don't know if he likes me, or even likes blokes at all..."

"Is it Harry?"

Ron stared at her with an expression of pure awe. "How in the hell did you know that?!"

Hermione shrugged humbly. "It just makes sense. You two are so close, and...I don't know...I guess there are things I noticed before which should have made it somewhat obvious, but I didn't recognize the signs at the time."

"So it is obvious? Do you think he knows?" Ron felt a cold wave of panic swept over him. If Harry had figured out that Ron had those feelings for him, who could be certain that he would be as understanding as Hermione had been?

"No, I don't think he knows. At least he's never mentioned anything to me about it. At any rate, I think you should tell him."

"Tell him? Are you mental, 'Mione? What good could that possibly do? Harry's not gay."

"Oh?" she said, crossing her arms and staring at him pointedly. "And what makes you so sure?"

"Hmm, well, let's see...how about...he dated Cho Chang! And for almost two years before that, he didn't just fancy her – he was absolutely stupid for her," Ron shot back, as if what he'd said was irrefutable proof. Hermione sighed – the same exasperated sigh she let out when she was trying to explain an Arithmancy equation to him.

"Yes, he dated Cho Chang, and as of ten minutes ago you were dating me, Ron Weasley. I assume we're not anymore, because that would make pursuing Harry a little difficult for you. The fact that he was with Cho for about a week last year doesn't mean a thing except that he liked girls at one time. How do you know he's not going through the same thing that you are now?"

Ron started; she certainly had a point. Did he have even the smallest chance with Harry? Did he dare to throw away all his previous fears, and reach toward the hope that lay in the distance?