Chapter Twenty-Five:

Frosted Realizations

Ron couldn't take it. The sight of Draco kissing Hermione brought old emotions back to the surface that he thought were long gone. Draco had been so smooth, sweeping Hermione away with his short sentences and dripping tears. That was when Ron realized he had no chance.

Turning on his heel, he shoved past students dancing together. Ron found himself in a sea full of romance that he could never be a part of. It was all too painful.

So, he ran away.

The Entrance Hall flew by him as he searched for an escape route.

Everywhere, there seemed to be someone. Teachers were positioned all over the place. Students milling outside the Great Hall were peppering the Entrance Hall. But, Ron needed to be alone.

Out the big oak doors, he slipped out into the night.

The chill in the air bit at him, like needles pricking him all over his face and arms. He regretted not having a jacket, but kept on walking anyway. For a second, he realized where he was going. But then he pushed it from his mind. All that mattered now was getting where he was going.

His footsteps crunched on the gravel of the path leading to a crossroads marked by a sign hastily staked into the grass, partly held up with magic. Ron took the right, hurrying on. He was almost there.

No longer able to see the lights of the castle, Ron slowed to a stop, his breath coming out in puffs of billowing mist. The cold stung his lungs, but that didn't matter now.

He was at the tree beside the Great Lake. Moonlight sparkled off the waves that lapped on the shore just feet away. Finally, Ron had made it to his serenity.

Taking a seat on the frozen grass just outside the sand of the shore, Ron wrapped his robes around his shoulders. A gust of frosty wind blew at the scene, rippling the overgrown blades of grass as it did to the water.

Time to think, Ron thought to himself. There was too much happening to him.

Well, he thought to himself. Not exactly happening to him in particular. Perhaps the problem was that he was too emotional. That was probably it. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't gotten upset over friendship that year.

Was it that he expected too much of people?

Perhaps…

The sound of rustling grass made him jump. Turning around, he was someone standing not far off. The figure's face was shrouded in black, but Ron could feel its eyes on him.

"Who's there?" he called to the figure.

Slowly, the figure started towards him. Inch by inch the darkness was replaced by the blue moonlight. When the face was finally revealed, Ron breathed a sigh of relief.

"Harry…you scared the crap out of me!"

Harry smiled and stood beside him, looking down. "May I?" he asked meekly after a moment of waves lapping.

Ron nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

Harry sighed as he took a seat, staring off into the night.

Ron…" he started after another moment of silence. A breeze blew at them, toying with their hair. "I…uh…I wanted to -"

"Harry," Ron cut in, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Please don't do this."

Harry blinked.

"But - I have to apologize. How can I -"

"Harry, I've had enough. No more apologizing. No more sorry's. Let's just take the conventional route and forget about it. Okay?"

Harry took this thought in for a moment, then nodded. Ron thought he saw tears in Harry's eyes as Harry took Ron in an embrace.

"Ron, I just - it's me. I'm being such a loser lately and I can't help it. I'm not myself…"

"You're not a loser."

"Yes, I am."

Harry's voice echoed across the Great Lake. But Ron shook his head again.

"Harry, there's your problem. You're always making yourself out to be the bad guy. And you're not."

Harry shrugged.

"It just seems like I'm always the one who's wrong. I usually am, you know."

Ron chuckled. "You're right."

Harry pushed away from him with a grin on his face. "Well thanks, Ron."

"Well, it seemed like I was getting nowhere without agreeing with you."

Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders, hugging him close. Things were back.

"You know, Ron," he started. "I missed having you around. Now I know what it is I missed about you."

Ron looked up, curious.

"What?"

Harry smiled.

"Your laugh."

They both chuckled together, enjoying each other's company. Then, the laughter died down and Ron became serious, putting his arm around Harry.

"You know, I heard Draco talking to Hermione." he started. Harry looked over at him, his arm falling from his hold on Ron's shoulders. Ron went on. "He's going to Hermione's house for the Holidays."

Harry seemed unaffected. "I knew it."

"So, since I'll be all alone without friends at the Burrow all vacation…you wanna come stay with me?"

Harry grinned. "Could I pass up such an awesome offer?"

Ron was relieved. He was sure Harry was going to say no. But now the relief washed over him as they sat there, enjoying each other's company once again before heading up to the warmth of the castle.

Unbeknownst to the two friends sitting by the lake, two other figures were watching them down by the Dark Forest. One, a tall pale man in billowing robes. The other, a sniveling man who resembled a deformed creature.

"Look at them, Wormtail." the tall man said with a sneer.

The second man, Wormtail, watched the two boys anxiously.

"They're s-so unsus-s-specting, Master." he whispered.

"I know," the taller replied. "Oh, how touching. Potter and the boyfriend reunited. I'm crying, Wormtail. Really, how cute."

Wormtail couldn't discern between the sarcasm and seriousness in his master's tone, so he just remained silent.

"So," he started. "What are we going to do, Master?"

The taller snarled.

"Wait until they leave the school on the train. We'll follow them to King's Cross. Then, he'll lead us to where they're staying. It'll be so easy, Wormtail."

"Yes, Master."

"But, Wormtail," the taller started as they turned to leave. "Remember that I want Potter alive. The other can be done away with as the others wish, but I have a special chamber to keep Potter in. We'll have fun with all my little toys."

Wormtail winced. He'd only caught a glimpse of the torture devices through a barred opening in the door. But with that one glimpse, he could tell Potter's death would be slow.

Hurrying after his master, they left to await the arrival of the winter Holidays.