CHAPTER TEN
Ron closed his eyes as Harry's fingers lightly touched his hair. He thanked Merlin that his friend had chosen to forgive him, for such gentle contact could only mean just that. He craved the contact Harry bestowed upon him. He so longed for the peace that came from such a caress. A part of him knew he didn't deserve such a friend.
"Ron, Please..." Harry begged and Ron was compelled by that voice to lift his head, to stare with wonder at his best friend.
"Thank you." He whispered. Harry stood before him, gazing down at him with gentle affection.
"I know it wasn't you, you would never hurt me like that," Harry assured Ron because he knew his friend blamed himself.
Harry drew his hand lightly down Ron's face, obliterating the tracks of his tears with a gentle swipe of his thumb. He only halted his exploration when his fingers curved possessively over Ron's cheek, his palm resting under his friend's chin.
Ron brow furrowed, but was not prepared when Harry fell to his knees in front of him and in one graceful move had pressed his wet mouth to his, completely stealing Ron's breath away.
The shock of Harry's mouth hungrily attacking him finally sunk in and motivated Ron into action. Gasping, he tore his lips from Harry's, eyes wild. Immediately, he got to his feet, swiping at the hands that reached out for him. Ron promptly shifted out of Harry's clutches, shrinking against the far wall his eyes bright with anger, humiliation. How could his best friend do this to him?
Harry felt the bitterness of Ron's rejection and he hung his head with the shame of it. His arms stole around his own body, trying desperately to give himself false comfort in his misery.
Ron wasn't mistaken; he had distinctly heard the whimper that issued from Harry's lips as he left him there on the floor. Ron pushed off from the wall violently and began to pace the length of the room, too upset to say anything. Harry had actually kissed him and the real shock wasn't the actual kiss, but the fact he hadn't been as disgusted as he imagined he would have been. What the hell did that mean? He was furious, confused and not at all sure he would ever be ready to explore that dilemma.
A number of times Ron started to speak, his mouth would open but the words failed to come so he continued to march back and forth. Eventually, Harry lifted his head, smiling miserably at the redhead who had finally exhausted himself and was leaning heavily against one of the supporting columns, gazing out the window at nothing.
"Ron, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that."
Ron was briefly startled by the intrusion into his solitude, turning his head dreamily; his eyes met Harry's from across the room. Ron stared as if baffled to why he was standing over by the window.
Harry's previous words suddenly filtered through the static and Ron shook his head. "No, its okay, really I..."
A hesitant smile flickered across Harry's features and for the briefest of moments, new hope shone vividly. He rushed towards him.
"No. No! I don't mean in that way, not like that..." Ron held up his hands to ward off his friend.
The light died as Harry finally understood. He nodded to himself, standing so close, yet so very far from everything he desired.
Ron died a little inside at the heartbreak he was forced to witness, despising himself for crushing all hope but having no choice in the matter. "I'm sorry for the way I handled that...before. Should have made myself clear from the beginning, I was just so relieved you had forgiven me, I wasn't thinking."
Harry continued to fight the ridiculous tears threatening to spill forth as he nodded absently, the rejection twisting unbearably, the gash on the side of his head only amplifying the pain.
Madam Pomfrey bustled in and Harry closed his eyes and mouthed 'thank you' to no one in particular. Anything to take away the hurt, the emptiness...
She frowned at the fact that Potter was out of bed, when she was certain that only ten minutes a go she had told him in no uncertain terms was he too leave it.
"I see that you are up and moving about unaided. This is not a wise decision Potter. I've explained to you the dangers. You've had quite the nasty fall and I must insist that you return to your bed immediately. Weasley is of course, very welcome to stay here with you while you recover." She smiled kindly at him while measuring out a dark viscous liquid into a bright blue glass.
Bustling over to where Harry was standing, she placed the potion in his hands before turning to busily fluff his pillow and smooth out the wrinkles in his sheets. When Madam Pomfrey was quite finished tidying, she noticed Harry was still standing blankly in the very spot she'd left him.
She tsked at the state he was in. "Come now, drink up. It will do wonders for the swelling in your head."
Harry glanced at Ron for a minute, before succumbing to her mothering tone and doing exactly as she asked.
As he expected, the potion was vile and it took a lot of coaxing on his throbbing brains behalf to get him to swallow the foul smelling tonic.
"Severus just delivered it a moment ago; they had rather a difficult day scouring the forbidden forest for the ingredients."
"They...?" Ron inquired, moving even further away from his friend. Just watching Harry try to swallow the potion that even he had caught a whiff of from across the room, made his stomach lurch in sympathy.
"Why Mr. Malfoy of course, apparently he insisted in helping and got a severe rash from walking straight into vine bursting with knekker berries. I had warned Severus on that particular fact, that they were a menace in that part of the forest and he was well prepared, still very nasty business indeed." She shook her head, completely missing the horror in both boys' faces.
Ron hadn't got past the bit where she recalled Malfoy insisting on helping Snape.
Harry on hearing the same thing began to cough violently, spluttering a quarter of the potion on his pyjamas before both Madam Pomfrey and Ron made it to his side.
The redhead instantly began to thump Harry sharply on the back, for that's how he'd seen some muggle actor perform on the 'telly thingy' over the summer.
"That will be quite enough of that," Pomfrey scowled at Ron, nudging him firmly out of her way. With her attention solely on her patient, she shuffled a reluctant Harry towards the bed. "Now you must sit down, you need to relax and take deep cleansing breaths..."
Harry struggled to regain his breath, swallowing large gulps of air in his panic.
"That's the way lad, let the potion do its job," she soothed.
Ron was hovering over Pomfrey's shoulder feeling useless as was commonplace in Harry's presence. Harry threw him a desperate look and he nearly shoved Madam Pomfrey out of the way to get to him.
"You don't understand Madam Pomfrey; if Malfoy made that potion then he has definitely poisoned it. He hates Harry; the wanker would do anything to get in his Daddy's good graces...even kill." Ron pleaded for her to understand as he sat beside his friend, patting and massaging circles into Harry's trembling back.
Madam Pomfrey snorted, waving her hand at such utter nonsense. "Oh pish posh, a student, even a Slytherin one would never do such a thing."
"No, listen you have to help him..." Ron grabbed for her hand, but she stepped out of his reach and hissed.
"No, you listen to me Mr. Weasley. No student or Professor for that matter will ever harm Potter on my watch. Do you understand?"
Ron swallowed thickly, nodding his head reluctantly. Madam Pomfrey glared at him, "The inter-house rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor is getting completely out of hand. You are 6th years, young adults and should know better" she barked.
"But..." Ron began.
Harry discreetly wiped his tongue on the sleeve of his pyjama top as he listened to Ron and Pomfrey argue. The taste in his mouth was disgusting but besides that little hiccup, he actually felt rather fantastic, better actually, than he had in...well, ever. He grinned sideways at Ron taking in his proximity and the freckled hand that hovered brilliantly over his flushed skin. 'The boy wasn't even looking at him, such a pity' and he couldn't help but pout at the lack of attention in general.
Ron's face was like thunder as Pomfrey continued to drone on and on. What was it about Hogwarts staff that expected all students just too instantly behave and co exist with each other when there were some who would always feel they were above the rest and act accordingly? Slytherin's for example, were evil; it was a known documented fact for Merlin's sake. The Malfoy family were particularly contemptible, especially the blonde bit of tail that paraded around the school grounds like he owned it and everyone. Draco was a mini version of his 'dear old Dad' and everyone knew what a charmer Lucius was.
Harry considered telling his best mate that he wasn't dying and that in fact he was very alright, but he was struck by the particularly enchanting way the light from the nearest window cast a gorgeous copper halo over Ron's head and seemed to render him speechless in the process.
It was Ron, at the lack of groaning, coughing and other such grossness... that first noticed the change in Harry.
"Har...?" More disturbed by the twinkling in his friends eyes then he had been by the emotional pain and vomiting of a moment a go. "Are you, you alright?" he added lamely.
Harry gave him a lopsided grin. "Hi Ron, how are you my dearest, most precious comrade? I feel so fine right now, I could literally float around the room it's so good. No telling in this mood what I might do." He winked, pinching his redheaded buddy on the thigh.
Ron yelped at the less then subtle touch, stumbling over his own two feet just to get off the bed.
He chanced a sidelong look at Madam Pomfrey, just to see if she had possibly missed the heavy suggestion in Harry's words. He hoped so.
She clapped her hands together in delight, hugging Harry quickly before releasing him. "Well this is splendid, more than I hoped for and so soon."
Ron just gaped.
Harry giggled in near hysterics, finding it ever so funny to pick delicately at the fluff on his pyjama top. Trapping the specks between thumb and forefinger, he would lift them up to his face before gently blowing on them. Watching with giddy awe as they spun, twirling in the patch of sunlight that streaked across the room, before he lost track of their progress and they disappeared forever.
Madame Pomfrey ignored them both as she jotted down notes in her 'case history' journal. It never hurt to keep a diary on any of the more unusual illnesses that befell her charges. One day such a thorough record may become invaluable in war with 'he who shall not be named' or perhaps on the bestseller list at 'Flourish and Blott's'.
Closing her book with a snap, she was immediately drawn to Ron's silent manner.
"Whatever is the matter with you Weasley? You appear quite unwell. Are you not relieved that Potter has made it unscathed and that the potion you were so adamant was poisonous, could not have worked more successfully?"
Madam Pomfrey let the smallest grin creep over her features at the confused look on Ron's face. His eyes darted from the school nurse to Harry and back again.
"His behaviour is nothing but a side-effect. The potion has a euphoric quality that calms the patient while healing. After a good night's rest he will be back to normal."
Ron seemed to relax at her words. "You are sure of this...?"
"Yes, Weasley," she snapped, annoyed that he would doubt her diagnosis. Turning her back on the instant relief that flooded through Ron, she gently manoeuvred Harry back under the covers, patting him maternally on the cheek before leaving Ron alone with her excitable patient.
Ron Weasley slumped once more onto the bed next to his friend. Harry tracked his every move although his eyelids had already begun to droop. Ron was amused at Harry's attempt to fight the sleeping spell that was embedded in the potion, but the lure was too strong and he watched, relieved when Harry's lids finally closed for the last time, gentle healing slumber the victor.
It was awhile before Ron could take his eyes from Harry's peaceful expression and then it was only to shiver at the sudden chill that had come over him. Pulling at the unravelling sleeve of his jumper, he struggled to cover his bare wrists from the cold that pressed insistently at him. Ron eventually knelt down beside his best friend, burying his fingers into the soft warm covers of Harry's bed.
A wistful look fell over his face as he continued to watch over Harry. So at peace did his friend appear to be. Those lines that had been full of pain and loathing had vanished under the spell of sleep and he wished right then and there that Harry would wake with no knowledge of what had been said. No memory of the rejection, the heartache that he had caused...
But then he had no right to change the past just because he had found it bloody horrible to destroy his friendship with Harry. Eventually he would have to know and then that torture of destroying a six year relationship with someone he considered family would start all over again.
Ron's hand hovered over Harry's face, just shy of a caress. He could feel each tiny wisp of breath that ghosted across his fingers and he silently mourned the loss.
"I'm so desperately sorry Harry..." he whispered, his breath disturbing the messy jet- black fringe that hid a tiny jagged scar from view. Harry stirred, mumbling in his sleep before rolling over onto his side and away from Ron.
"What exactly are you sorry for?"
Ron rubbed at his eyes, turning abruptly at the invasion.
............................................................................ ..............................................................
Ron closed his eyes as Harry's fingers lightly touched his hair. He thanked Merlin that his friend had chosen to forgive him, for such gentle contact could only mean just that. He craved the contact Harry bestowed upon him. He so longed for the peace that came from such a caress. A part of him knew he didn't deserve such a friend.
"Ron, Please..." Harry begged and Ron was compelled by that voice to lift his head, to stare with wonder at his best friend.
"Thank you." He whispered. Harry stood before him, gazing down at him with gentle affection.
"I know it wasn't you, you would never hurt me like that," Harry assured Ron because he knew his friend blamed himself.
Harry drew his hand lightly down Ron's face, obliterating the tracks of his tears with a gentle swipe of his thumb. He only halted his exploration when his fingers curved possessively over Ron's cheek, his palm resting under his friend's chin.
Ron brow furrowed, but was not prepared when Harry fell to his knees in front of him and in one graceful move had pressed his wet mouth to his, completely stealing Ron's breath away.
The shock of Harry's mouth hungrily attacking him finally sunk in and motivated Ron into action. Gasping, he tore his lips from Harry's, eyes wild. Immediately, he got to his feet, swiping at the hands that reached out for him. Ron promptly shifted out of Harry's clutches, shrinking against the far wall his eyes bright with anger, humiliation. How could his best friend do this to him?
Harry felt the bitterness of Ron's rejection and he hung his head with the shame of it. His arms stole around his own body, trying desperately to give himself false comfort in his misery.
Ron wasn't mistaken; he had distinctly heard the whimper that issued from Harry's lips as he left him there on the floor. Ron pushed off from the wall violently and began to pace the length of the room, too upset to say anything. Harry had actually kissed him and the real shock wasn't the actual kiss, but the fact he hadn't been as disgusted as he imagined he would have been. What the hell did that mean? He was furious, confused and not at all sure he would ever be ready to explore that dilemma.
A number of times Ron started to speak, his mouth would open but the words failed to come so he continued to march back and forth. Eventually, Harry lifted his head, smiling miserably at the redhead who had finally exhausted himself and was leaning heavily against one of the supporting columns, gazing out the window at nothing.
"Ron, I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that."
Ron was briefly startled by the intrusion into his solitude, turning his head dreamily; his eyes met Harry's from across the room. Ron stared as if baffled to why he was standing over by the window.
Harry's previous words suddenly filtered through the static and Ron shook his head. "No, its okay, really I..."
A hesitant smile flickered across Harry's features and for the briefest of moments, new hope shone vividly. He rushed towards him.
"No. No! I don't mean in that way, not like that..." Ron held up his hands to ward off his friend.
The light died as Harry finally understood. He nodded to himself, standing so close, yet so very far from everything he desired.
Ron died a little inside at the heartbreak he was forced to witness, despising himself for crushing all hope but having no choice in the matter. "I'm sorry for the way I handled that...before. Should have made myself clear from the beginning, I was just so relieved you had forgiven me, I wasn't thinking."
Harry continued to fight the ridiculous tears threatening to spill forth as he nodded absently, the rejection twisting unbearably, the gash on the side of his head only amplifying the pain.
Madam Pomfrey bustled in and Harry closed his eyes and mouthed 'thank you' to no one in particular. Anything to take away the hurt, the emptiness...
She frowned at the fact that Potter was out of bed, when she was certain that only ten minutes a go she had told him in no uncertain terms was he too leave it.
"I see that you are up and moving about unaided. This is not a wise decision Potter. I've explained to you the dangers. You've had quite the nasty fall and I must insist that you return to your bed immediately. Weasley is of course, very welcome to stay here with you while you recover." She smiled kindly at him while measuring out a dark viscous liquid into a bright blue glass.
Bustling over to where Harry was standing, she placed the potion in his hands before turning to busily fluff his pillow and smooth out the wrinkles in his sheets. When Madam Pomfrey was quite finished tidying, she noticed Harry was still standing blankly in the very spot she'd left him.
She tsked at the state he was in. "Come now, drink up. It will do wonders for the swelling in your head."
Harry glanced at Ron for a minute, before succumbing to her mothering tone and doing exactly as she asked.
As he expected, the potion was vile and it took a lot of coaxing on his throbbing brains behalf to get him to swallow the foul smelling tonic.
"Severus just delivered it a moment ago; they had rather a difficult day scouring the forbidden forest for the ingredients."
"They...?" Ron inquired, moving even further away from his friend. Just watching Harry try to swallow the potion that even he had caught a whiff of from across the room, made his stomach lurch in sympathy.
"Why Mr. Malfoy of course, apparently he insisted in helping and got a severe rash from walking straight into vine bursting with knekker berries. I had warned Severus on that particular fact, that they were a menace in that part of the forest and he was well prepared, still very nasty business indeed." She shook her head, completely missing the horror in both boys' faces.
Ron hadn't got past the bit where she recalled Malfoy insisting on helping Snape.
Harry on hearing the same thing began to cough violently, spluttering a quarter of the potion on his pyjamas before both Madam Pomfrey and Ron made it to his side.
The redhead instantly began to thump Harry sharply on the back, for that's how he'd seen some muggle actor perform on the 'telly thingy' over the summer.
"That will be quite enough of that," Pomfrey scowled at Ron, nudging him firmly out of her way. With her attention solely on her patient, she shuffled a reluctant Harry towards the bed. "Now you must sit down, you need to relax and take deep cleansing breaths..."
Harry struggled to regain his breath, swallowing large gulps of air in his panic.
"That's the way lad, let the potion do its job," she soothed.
Ron was hovering over Pomfrey's shoulder feeling useless as was commonplace in Harry's presence. Harry threw him a desperate look and he nearly shoved Madam Pomfrey out of the way to get to him.
"You don't understand Madam Pomfrey; if Malfoy made that potion then he has definitely poisoned it. He hates Harry; the wanker would do anything to get in his Daddy's good graces...even kill." Ron pleaded for her to understand as he sat beside his friend, patting and massaging circles into Harry's trembling back.
Madam Pomfrey snorted, waving her hand at such utter nonsense. "Oh pish posh, a student, even a Slytherin one would never do such a thing."
"No, listen you have to help him..." Ron grabbed for her hand, but she stepped out of his reach and hissed.
"No, you listen to me Mr. Weasley. No student or Professor for that matter will ever harm Potter on my watch. Do you understand?"
Ron swallowed thickly, nodding his head reluctantly. Madam Pomfrey glared at him, "The inter-house rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor is getting completely out of hand. You are 6th years, young adults and should know better" she barked.
"But..." Ron began.
Harry discreetly wiped his tongue on the sleeve of his pyjama top as he listened to Ron and Pomfrey argue. The taste in his mouth was disgusting but besides that little hiccup, he actually felt rather fantastic, better actually, than he had in...well, ever. He grinned sideways at Ron taking in his proximity and the freckled hand that hovered brilliantly over his flushed skin. 'The boy wasn't even looking at him, such a pity' and he couldn't help but pout at the lack of attention in general.
Ron's face was like thunder as Pomfrey continued to drone on and on. What was it about Hogwarts staff that expected all students just too instantly behave and co exist with each other when there were some who would always feel they were above the rest and act accordingly? Slytherin's for example, were evil; it was a known documented fact for Merlin's sake. The Malfoy family were particularly contemptible, especially the blonde bit of tail that paraded around the school grounds like he owned it and everyone. Draco was a mini version of his 'dear old Dad' and everyone knew what a charmer Lucius was.
Harry considered telling his best mate that he wasn't dying and that in fact he was very alright, but he was struck by the particularly enchanting way the light from the nearest window cast a gorgeous copper halo over Ron's head and seemed to render him speechless in the process.
It was Ron, at the lack of groaning, coughing and other such grossness... that first noticed the change in Harry.
"Har...?" More disturbed by the twinkling in his friends eyes then he had been by the emotional pain and vomiting of a moment a go. "Are you, you alright?" he added lamely.
Harry gave him a lopsided grin. "Hi Ron, how are you my dearest, most precious comrade? I feel so fine right now, I could literally float around the room it's so good. No telling in this mood what I might do." He winked, pinching his redheaded buddy on the thigh.
Ron yelped at the less then subtle touch, stumbling over his own two feet just to get off the bed.
He chanced a sidelong look at Madam Pomfrey, just to see if she had possibly missed the heavy suggestion in Harry's words. He hoped so.
She clapped her hands together in delight, hugging Harry quickly before releasing him. "Well this is splendid, more than I hoped for and so soon."
Ron just gaped.
Harry giggled in near hysterics, finding it ever so funny to pick delicately at the fluff on his pyjama top. Trapping the specks between thumb and forefinger, he would lift them up to his face before gently blowing on them. Watching with giddy awe as they spun, twirling in the patch of sunlight that streaked across the room, before he lost track of their progress and they disappeared forever.
Madame Pomfrey ignored them both as she jotted down notes in her 'case history' journal. It never hurt to keep a diary on any of the more unusual illnesses that befell her charges. One day such a thorough record may become invaluable in war with 'he who shall not be named' or perhaps on the bestseller list at 'Flourish and Blott's'.
Closing her book with a snap, she was immediately drawn to Ron's silent manner.
"Whatever is the matter with you Weasley? You appear quite unwell. Are you not relieved that Potter has made it unscathed and that the potion you were so adamant was poisonous, could not have worked more successfully?"
Madam Pomfrey let the smallest grin creep over her features at the confused look on Ron's face. His eyes darted from the school nurse to Harry and back again.
"His behaviour is nothing but a side-effect. The potion has a euphoric quality that calms the patient while healing. After a good night's rest he will be back to normal."
Ron seemed to relax at her words. "You are sure of this...?"
"Yes, Weasley," she snapped, annoyed that he would doubt her diagnosis. Turning her back on the instant relief that flooded through Ron, she gently manoeuvred Harry back under the covers, patting him maternally on the cheek before leaving Ron alone with her excitable patient.
Ron Weasley slumped once more onto the bed next to his friend. Harry tracked his every move although his eyelids had already begun to droop. Ron was amused at Harry's attempt to fight the sleeping spell that was embedded in the potion, but the lure was too strong and he watched, relieved when Harry's lids finally closed for the last time, gentle healing slumber the victor.
It was awhile before Ron could take his eyes from Harry's peaceful expression and then it was only to shiver at the sudden chill that had come over him. Pulling at the unravelling sleeve of his jumper, he struggled to cover his bare wrists from the cold that pressed insistently at him. Ron eventually knelt down beside his best friend, burying his fingers into the soft warm covers of Harry's bed.
A wistful look fell over his face as he continued to watch over Harry. So at peace did his friend appear to be. Those lines that had been full of pain and loathing had vanished under the spell of sleep and he wished right then and there that Harry would wake with no knowledge of what had been said. No memory of the rejection, the heartache that he had caused...
But then he had no right to change the past just because he had found it bloody horrible to destroy his friendship with Harry. Eventually he would have to know and then that torture of destroying a six year relationship with someone he considered family would start all over again.
Ron's hand hovered over Harry's face, just shy of a caress. He could feel each tiny wisp of breath that ghosted across his fingers and he silently mourned the loss.
"I'm so desperately sorry Harry..." he whispered, his breath disturbing the messy jet- black fringe that hid a tiny jagged scar from view. Harry stirred, mumbling in his sleep before rolling over onto his side and away from Ron.
"What exactly are you sorry for?"
Ron rubbed at his eyes, turning abruptly at the invasion.
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