Ron had never been more terrified in his life. Not even finding Harry broken and bleeding in the Dursley's front hall could compare with the horror of watching his partner become someone else. One minute he had been sniggering at Harry as his poor friend was dragged up the front - Trelawny hated that Harry read the textbooks she assigned rather than listen to her waffling on, and the fact that he'd topped the class in Divinations, despite her coaching of Lavender and Parvati only rubbed salt into the wound. Ron had wondered idly how Harry was destined to die this year - Trelawny's predictions had ceased to scare him at all - and almost laughed out loud when Harry succeed in taking the candle away from her.
His friend had turned to face him, and Ron had to admit that Harry was being quite the showman - the slow deliberate movements and slow even breaths a nice mystical touch. Then Harry had let go of the candle, his face seeming to age, the candle floating in between his hands. Lavender had squealed in shock and Trelawny had stepped back in surprise. His friend's mouth moved soundlessly, but Ron thought he saw the pale lips form the words 'Fred and George'. Then the candle was on the floor and Harry was shouting about the twins. Ron followed his partner, abandoning their books and bags, clambering down the ladder and galloping along towards Dumbledore's office.
He didn't even have the breath to ask what Harry had seen, it was all he could do to keep his feet and keep pace with Harry. The gargoyle came in sight, and even as Ron acknowledged the relief he felt that help was at hand, it moved aside and Dumbledore stepped out, his sharp blue eyes skewering them immediately.
"Professor! Fred and George! They're under attack! The wall! It's going to crush them! We have to get to them now!" Harry panted, his voice high with panic, and Ron felt his skin crawl in horror. If Harry really was having a vision of the present then Ron wanted it acted on straight away. His visions in the past had all come true. Ron was hoping desperately that this one would not.
"This way," Dumbledore whirled and leapt back towards his office, Harry a close second. The Headmaster grabbed a box of Floo powder and threw a handful in, shouting 'Diagon Alley' before stepping into the green flames. Fawkes squawked and disappeared as well, leaving Ron hoping desperately that the Phoenix was also heading to his brothers aid. Harry was already stepping into the fireplace, and Ron took his own handful, panting the words out and whirling through the network.
Dumbledore was already running through the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry was hot on his heels. Ron gulped and followed them, praying under his breath as all three of them headed along the main causeway. Their appearance was causing a stir, and Ron saw several people pull their wands out of their robes, turning to scan the area around them. Aurors started appearing all over the place, and Ron skidded into Harry's back when there was an explosion from somewhere near Gringotts. People screamed and shouted, and Ron saw the twins shop at last.
There was a crack as Death Eaters in their robes and masks Disapparated and started shooting hexes and curses all over the street. Ron felt the bond snap to life as their shield blossomed around them. Fred leapt out into the street, his wand at the ready, George close behind. They were duelling with the nearest Death Eater, protecting their shop and several of the passer-by's who were panicking uselessly.
As Ron watched the twins deflected four spells into a nearby wall. Great big cracks appeared in it and it sagged a little. Neither of his brothers noticed, too busy fighting for the lives of the people around them. The wall shivered and started to give way. Ron pointed his wand and Harry roared:
"Reparo!"
The cracks sealed themselves up and the wall returned to its normal position. Ron squeezed Harry's hand and they started forward, casting shielding spells over the twins and the people closest. As suddenly as the attack started it was over, the Death Eaters that hadn't been injured Apparating away. Several of the Aurors were engaged in fighting a rather nasty fire in Quality Quidditch Supplies, and even as Ron and Harry hurried forward towards the twins, Healers started appearing to take care of the casualties.
Fred and George spotted them straight away and gaped at their brother and his fiancé. Ron was shaking badly as he grabbed them, hugging them tight and then checking them for injuries. Their protests and questions fell on deaf ears as he anxiously went over every inch of them for injuries.
"Ron," Harry's shaking hand on his arm brought him back to himself and he turned to face his partner with frightened eyes.
0oo0oo0
Harry watched as Ron checked the bewildered twins over from head to foot, ignoring their questions and exasperated demands for him to 'stop it ya daft pillock!'. Just as it looked like Fred was about to petrify his younger brother to calm him down, Harry stepped forward and put a hand on the redheads arm.
"Ron," he called gently and Ron flinched, swinging around to stare at him. Harry let go instantly and stepped back, feeling as if he'd been slapped in the face. Ron was scared of him, of what he'd just done. Even though he'd helped save the twins, his partner, his lover was afraid of him and his abilities. Feeling as though someone had just ripped his heart out and stomped on it, Harry backed away from the trio of brothers, his eyes flicking away from them.
"I'm going back to school," Harry stammered and turned, almost running in his haste to get away from them. He saw Dumbledore in the distance and hurried towards him, knowing that he'd better report that he was leaving to his Headmaster before he actually did.
"Harry, are the twins alright?" he asked, concern in his eyes. Harry nodded, trying to control himself long enough to get his mouth to work. His voice wasn't as steady as he would have liked, but it would have to do.
"They're fine. Ron's with them now. I'd… like to go back to school, Professor."
"Take the Floo back to my office and wait for me there," Dumbledore said firmly, "You're not to leave the office, Harry, is that understood?"
"Yes sir," Harry whispered and headed for the nearest fireplace, which happened to be in the back of Flourish and Blotts. The sales assistant was happy to let him use it, and Harry stepped out into the calm of the Headmaster's office only minutes later. The portraits on the wall were awake and watching him closely as he brushed his robes off while standing in the hearth, finally taking them off and bundling them up to avoid tracking soot through Dumbledore's rooms.
"What happened?" a sharp-eyed witch snapped, and Harry took a deep breath. It felt as if there was a massive weight on his chest and his eyes and nose were burning. He couldn't seem to stop shaking, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark corner and hide for a while.
"The Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley. I don't know if there were any deaths, but there were a few people hurt," his voice was thin and brittle, sounding most unlike himself. He walked to the door and placed his sooty robe on the floor next to it before walking aimlessly to the middle of the room. Fawkes popped into the room, gliding to his usual perch and Harry smiled at it. He felt tears spill over and run down his cheeks, and the next thing he knew he was sobbing uncontrollably. He staggered towards the nearest corner and huddled into it, burying his face in his arms.
Ron was frightened of him, had flinched away from his touch - their most vital connection was suddenly an unwelcome intrusion. He'd discovered another weird talent that he could perform and one that set him apart from the rest of his friends again. He was nothing more than a freak, an unlovable freak that frightened those around him. He felt Fawkes land on his foot, trilling softly. The Phoenix song failed to comfort him though and he simply curled up in a tighter ball, truly and utterly miserable - even more so than he had been when Cedric Diggory and Sirius had died.
The fireplace whooshed and Harry bit his lips, trying to get control of himself, wishing that he didn't have to, that he could just fall apart and let someone else worry about things for a while. He knew that he had to explain what had happened to Dumbledore and also find Dudley. His cousin already thought he was a freak, so it wouldn't be too hard to deal with him. He'd also have to make some kind of arrangement about the dorm - though he doubted that there was room to move him out of Ron's room. He could always sleep on the floor in Dudley's room. Dobby could get him a couple of blankets and maybe a pillow.
Swallowing desperately on the choked sobs and wiping at his face with both hands, Harry tried to straighten up. He knew that it would be impossible to hide his tears from the Headmaster, but he could at least face the man with some dignity. Fawkes weight left his foot and strong arms wrapped around him. The smell of warm, slightly salty bread wafted over him in a wave and Harry struggled against the clasp, pushing away as hard as he could, a keening noise pouring from his throat uncontrollably. His glasses slipped from his face, falling to the floor and skittering away as his hand struck them.
"Harry!" the yell in his ear shocked him into immobility, and he froze. Ron took advantage of his shock to wrap his long arms even more tightly around Harry. The redhead's fingers were stroking him gently and they were swaying slightly where they sat.
"Why did you run away?" Ron asked, sounding genuinely hurt and bewildered. Harry struggled for a moment in the tight grip, outraged, then slumped limply in the other teens grasp.
"You flinched," his voice was as dead as he felt inside, "You were scared of me. You think I'm a freak!"
The last part was shrieked at the top of his lungs but Ron merely tightened his arms and hauled Harry into his lap. Harry huddled there, needing the comfort and hating himself for it. Ron crooned softly and tears spilled over Harry's cheeks again. In a matter of seconds he was sobbing again, shaking uncontrollably.
"Why can't I get control of myself?" he wailed and Ron kissed his ear lightly.
"It's shock, I think," he murmured, "You've worked yourself into a pretty state, haven't you? Just take it easy, it's ok Harry. I've got you."
"You don't want me," Harry protested, "You're sc-scared."
"No I'm not you idiot," Ron replied, his voice sharp, "Harry, when you went into that trance I was frightened - not of you but of what was happening to you. I haven't forgotten last year and the hell that Tom Riddle played with your dreams and visions the year before that. I was frightened that Tom was at you again, that's all. When you grabbed me back there, I was scared that the twins had been hurt, that we'd been too late, that you'd been hurt and I hadn't noticed. Get this through your thick head, Harry. I. Love. You. Nothing will make me stop. We're getting married in January and making ourselves a family of our own. The only way you'll get rid of me is to kill me, Harry. Do you understand?"
Harry gasped for breath, feeling like he'd been deluged with ice water. Kill Ron? He could never! He grabbed the sooty robes his friend still wore and shook his head violently, trying to convey that he would never do that. Ron kissed his ear again and rocked them both slowly, his breathing a little harsh in the aftermath of his tirade. Harry felt a hand worm inside his uniform, rubbing the skin at the small of his back. A little spot of warmth started there and grew slowly, enveloping his whole body, slowing his own frantic heart and breaths, leaching away the tension in his frame until he was slumped into Ron, his hands still clutching the dark robes, his face tucked into Ron's neck.
"I love you," Ron whispered over and over again, in time with his fingers swirls, "I'm not frightened of you, I'm never leaving you."
Those soft words were all Harry could hear as he let the warmth take him away from everything, cocooning him in safe darkness.
0oo0oo0
Ron had been reluctant to leave the twins, even when Harry seemed to weird out on him a little and head back to school alone. Fred and George had reassured him that they were fine, and Dumbledore had found him helping them repair a cracked window. The Headmaster had spoken briefly to the twins and then told Ron that Harry was waiting in the study and would he please join his partner? Ron had been happy to by then, seeing that the Death Eaters were definitely gone and people were starting to get on with their normal day.
He'd found Harry in a corner of the room, crying his heart out, and Fawkes with his partner, trying futilely to reassure him. Harry had fought him off at first, and it had taken Ron some time to figure out what was upsetting his fiancé so badly. His heart broke a little when he realised that Harry was expecting to be thrown away again. He blamed himself for triggering that particular fear, and Dudley's presence for making Harry a little more susceptible to self-doubt than usual. Harry was slow to believe Ron's promises, but calmed down in the end. He went to sleep in Ron's lap, little sobs still marring his breathing.
There was a whoosh, and Ron looked up as Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace. The white haired Headmaster's eyes widened in dismay when he spotted Ron's lapful of upset Harry. He walked over softly as Fawkes glided to his shoulder and crouched on the floor in front of them.
"He thought I was afraid of him. He thought I was leaving him," Ron blurted, his own face crumpling a little in misery, "I hurt him."
"Part of that would be from the shock, I think," Dumbledore said softly, reaching out a hand to stroke the messy dark head that was hiding on Ron's shoulder, "He's had a lot to deal with over the last week."
Ron nodded, watching the thin hand rub Harry's head almost tenderly. It came to him that Dumbledore cared about his lover almost like a parent would. Dumbledore sighed and called up a blanket, tucking it over them where they sat. He settled on the floor opposite them, Summoning Harry's glasses to him before putting his hands in his lap.
"Perhaps you can tell me what occurred?" Dumbledore asked quietly, and Ron nodded, his arms starting to tire from supporting Harry's dead weight. He wasn't about to complain, though. If this was what Harry needed then this is what he would get.
"We were in Divination. Last year Harry started reading the textbook instead of simply listening to Professor Trelawny, and she likes to make an example of him anyway. We were starting the art of scrying, using candles for our focal point. She called Harry up the front to try it first. He took the candle from her, and then next thing I know it's floating in the air between his outstretched hands. He's in some kind of trance, looking like someone else, and his lips are moving, but there's no sound. Then the candle drops to the floor and he's lunging across the room, shouting about the twins and a wall," Ron sighed, "I was so scared that Tom Riddle was messing with his head again, Professor. His dreams in fifth year were horrifying, and the visions weren't any better."
"I understand," Dumbledore nodded gently, "You came to me, and we went to Diagon Alley where you were successful in saving your brothers."
"I panicked," Ron said bitterly, "I needed to check that they were ok, and then Harry grabbed me to calm me down and I thought that maybe he'd been hurt and I hadn't noticed or something. His hand was shaking you see, and it's so unlike him to be that shaky unless he's sick or hurt in some way. But he thought I was afraid of him and he left."
"Potter was in a right state," one of the portraits confirmed, "Weasley managed to calm him down."
"I see," the Headmaster sighed, "Very well. I think it would be best if Harry gave up Divination, Ron. I realise that it's a NEWT subject for him, but in light of all this…"
"You'll have to talk to Harry about that," Ron shook his head, "It's his decision. I just want him to be happy and safe."
He whispered the last part into Harry's hair and felt his partner stir a little in response. Harry lifted tear blotched cheeks and Ron dropped a kiss on each red eye, crooning softly to comfort his partner.
"Stuck with me, Potter," he whispered, "Forever."
Harry sniffled a little and moved to sit up straight, staying within Ron's arms and warmth. He jumped when he spotted Dumbledore, and flushed in embarrassment. The Headmaster offered them a smile and reached out to pat Harry on a blanket covered hip.
"How do you feel, my boy?" he asked lightly and Harry forced a smile. Ron kissed his temple, and sped his fingers a little.
"Better," Ron knew Harry wouldn't lie to the Headmaster, and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of pain in the blue eyes opposite them. Before anyone could say anything else, the sharp-eyed Witch that had spoken up before interrupted them again.
"Albus, I think that there's something those two have to tell you," she said in a severe tone. Ron fought back the urge to glare at her, and sighed, shifting Harry's weight so his partner was closer. Harry curled into him again, seeking his scent and shelter. Ron rubbed a cheek in his partner's soft hair and looked Dumbledore in the eye.
"We were going to invite you properly, Professor," Ron said pointedly, glancing at the portrait for a moment, "Harry and I are getting married in the January hols."
Dumbledore smiled at them both and to Ron's surprise leaned over and gave them a hug. Harry made a soft noise and released one of his hands from Ron's robe to pat the nearest arm. Ron was very glad that Harry still had one adult in his life that he felt he could turn to despite Sirius' death.
"I would be delighted to come," he told them both, "I await your invitation eagerly. Now, perhaps it would be best if you retired to your dorm for the rest of the morning. You may join the school after dinner, I will send Dobby to you with a tray."
Ron nodded and took Harry's glasses as Dumbledore helped them up.
0oo0oo0
Harry had leaned heavily into Ron as the redhead guided them back to their room. Once inside with the door sealed Ron had put Harry on their bed and pulled off his shoes, pulling off his sooty robe and toeing off his own shoes before joining Harry on the bed. Harry had been unable to suppress a soft noise of need and curled into Ron's arms. He didn't know what to do to heal the breach in their relationship, he just knew he had to be close to his partner.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered and Ron kissed his temple. The loving contact eased a little of Harry's tension and he was able to unclench the fingers of one hand, smoothing Ron's school jumper with shaking fingers.
"Don't be sorry," Ron told him, "It was a misunderstanding. We're going to argue and misunderstand each other now and then Harry. We did before we started loving each other and we will after we're married. We'll probably still bicker and argue when they ship us off to the old Wizards Home."
"I don't want to argue," Harry bit his lip against the tears he felt threatening to fall once more, "I love you. I don't want to fight."
"It's ok to fight," Ron soothed, "Mum and Dad fight, and look how much they love each other. In fact I think that it's because they love each other that they fight. If they were totally indifferent to each other then they wouldn't have stayed together. I love you, and I care about you, but I don't expect you to agree with everything I say, and I don't think you should expect me to agree with you all the time either. If we can't be honest with each other then we'll be miserable. You know this, Harry, and I know that you remember the disagreements we've had since we became lovers. None of them were the end of the world."
Harry nodded, remembering the minor flashes of irritation and squabbles they'd had since that first summer. They'd even had a row during the building of their house and Ron had gone for a walk to cool off. They solved their disagreements by talking it over, sometimes rationally, sometimes at the top of their lungs. This was a pattern they'd started in their first year of friendship, and Harry couldn't imagine changing it now. Normally he was comforted by the fact that even though Ron was cross with him he still loved him. The argument that they'd had about telling Ron's parents had shown him that.
"So why do I feel so bad now?" Harry had to ask, knowing that the answer was not one he could see. Ron was the calm and rational one this time. Harry lifted his head and looked at the blue eyes that were smiling at him gently. He felt a warm glow somewhere in the middle of his chest and snuggled closer, an action his friend welcomed with a squeeze and a pat.
"Well," Ron's thoughts moved quickly over his face, "You've had a big shock with the whole scrying thing, and we went right from that into a battle with Death Eaters. You managed to save my brothers, and when I panicked you were already on edge. I jumped when you touched me, and that kicked off your own panic."
"It was a misunderstanding?" Harry half asked, half stated and Ron nodded solemnly, stroking his back and still thinking. Harry shifted so he could watch the thoughts and possibilities dance over his friend's face. Ron wasn't often this relaxed and open, preferring to keep his guard up in public. Harry loved watching this happen, it made him feel… honoured that his partner would show him this.
"I think I know how to make you feel better," Ron pecked Harry on the lips and wriggled out from under, sliding off the bed smoothly. Harry knew he was pouting but couldn't help it. Being held by Ron was making him feel a lot better and he didn't want to give it up. Ron returned with a sketchbook that he'd bought during the summer and the box of pencils that Harry had given him. Harry thought Ron was a great artist, though Ron had hotly disputed the point. All of his books and notes had doodles in the margins, as did the books that he read for pleasure. The books he and Harry shared had notes in the margins - they had been known to carry on whole conversations there.
"What are you doing?" Harry sat up obligingly. Ron piled the pillows up on the bed and rested his back against them, drawing Harry to rest between his legs, back to belly. He propped the sketchpad on Harry's knees and fished out a grey and yellow pencil.
"We're going to design our own wedding rings. Usually it's a gold band, like the Muggles wear, but I think we should make our own, like Hermione's bracelet," Ron explained, and Harry felt his heart lighten. The promise inherent in the suggestion reassured him like nothing else could. Bound by the promises and love that went into the design he felt that he could weather any argument with his partner.
"You're brilliant," he smiled and leaned back into Ron's warm embrace, taking the pencil and the love he was being offered.
0oo0oo0
"What do you want?" Dudley scowled at him and Harry sighed. He put the tray he was carrying down on the small table next to Dudley's armchair and stepped back, folding his arms and looking around the room. It was neat enough, and the furniture was good quality, but it wasn't the sort of place you expected to find Dudley 'give it to me now, I want it' Dursley. The computers and stereo and TV that haunted Dudley's room, not to mention the Playstation and all the rest of the 'toys' that his cousin was usually surrounded with were obviously missing.
"You didn't come to tea, and Hermione said she couldn't find you at dinner either," Harry replied reasonably, determined not to let his cousin get to him. He'd had enough turmoil today, between the scrying, the battle and the misunderstanding, and didn't need to get into a knock down drag out argument at this late stage.
"What do you care?" the sulky voice grated on Harry's tired nerves and he glared at the unlovely Muggle slouched in front of him. At times like this it was hard to remember how alone Dudley was while he grieved for his father and waited for his mother to recover. Surrounded by a world he couldn't fit into or control, Dudley was vulnerable and scared.
Harry had no comfort for him. His own life with the Dursley's offered no warm memories to share as a balm to Dudley's grief, there was no common friendship or camaraderie to bolster them. He'd been in Dudley's place so often - grieving for the dead, isolated and powerless - that Harry could understand the tendency to lash out. He'd never had the luxury of course, but he understood the need to express his misery somehow.
"Look, Dudley, I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, but you are family, and I take care of my family. That means I protect them as best I can, and make sure that they're generally ok. You need to eat, so stop your whining and get over here," Harry said it briskly and impersonally. Dudley gaped at him and got up off the bed where he was sulking.
"I almost killed you," he whispered, stepping forward. Harry's insides turned to ice for a moment, and he stepped back. Dudley flinched and Harry watched in a kind of sick fascination as his cousin wrapped his arms around his chest and tried to make himself small.
"That Headmaster of yours same to see us," the voice was low but perfectly understandable, "He was furious. Dad… he was yelling at him, screaming about how you were a freak, and dangerous to us and that he wouldn't have you back. Dumbledore froze him in place… mum was shrieking about how he'd better not hurt us and… he just looked at us like we were bugs. He said that on the whole, Wizards weren't interested in Muggles and it was people like us that were the reason why. He said that you were almost dead and… well he really let mum and dad have it. How you were a helpless baby when you came and deserved love and… he was almost crying I think."
Harry shook his head in denial. Dumbledore was a powerful man, and Harry had relied on this image of his Professor more than once in a tight spot. He didn't want to have that image destroyed - he needed it.
"He called me a would be murderer, and said that my parents weren't fit to raise a child," Dudley choked out, tears dripping from his chin, "He was right, Harry. I'm a rotten person. I could have killed you. I should have been locked up for what I did, but because you were being treated by your own kind there would be no proof for the police. I… I was so angry. I went to school and I worked hard. I tried so hard to be different, and I thought that if it worked, then it would stop bad things from happening. But it didn't and now Dad's dead and Mum's in a coma or something and I'm here where everyone stares at me and hates me."
"No one hates you, Dudley," Harry snapped, "Half the students here are pureblood's who have never seen someone who has no magical ability. They're just curious. They won't hurt you. I won't let them."
"Why would you defend me?" Dudley almost howled and Harry bit his lip. It was a good question. He owed his cousin nothing but hate and revulsion, but at the same time a small part of him was insisting that Harry treat him well. That part was reminding him that there was more to life than petty revenge, and that he had enough to do with killing Voldemort. That part was reminding him that despite the best efforts of the child in front of him - and even though they were the same age, Dudley now seemed much younger to Harry - Ron loved him and was marrying him this January.
"Because I've been where you are for most of my life, and I'm not about to inflict pain on you just because I can," Harry said quietly, "Because I've got an enemy who is so evil he makes you look like a Boy Scout. Because even though you've hated me all your life I can finally say with certainty that I am not unlovable, not unworthy, and not garbage. Because no matter what my life was like in your house, you're now in mine, and I simply will not stand for bullying, not even from myself."
There was a long silence while Dudley stared at him, and Harry sighed. He very much doubted that his cousin would ever understand, but he didn't care. He understood - finally! He understood - and that would have to be enough. He felt tired but there was a sense of peace that he usually associated with Ron hovering over him now. Harry had the urge to find his partner and express that peace as joyously and enthusiastically as he knew how.
"Eat something, Dudley. I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow," Harry turned and headed out of the portrait hole, glancing at Malfoy who was hanging around and being glared at by the Fat Lady and Wrestler.
"Were you looking for someone, Malfoy?" Harry asked politely, folding his hands in his robes. The blonde sneered at him and walked away. Harry shook his head and put his hand on Wrestler's head. He said goodnight to the Fat Lady and the gargoyle, going inside to find his Wheezy.
0oo0oo0
Much to Ron's relief things settled down after that. He and Harry got into the routine of learning and teaching and taking Quidditch practices and tuition from Professor McGonagal fairly easily. Harry disappeared for an afternoon with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Trelawny, and it was agreed that he would continue Divination, but any scrying he did would be in carefully controlled circumstances.
Their students were settling down well, and Ron was thoroughly enjoying the lessons. As Gryffindor wasn't slated to play Slytherin until the third week of term, they both had three clear weeks to impress their student's limits upon them. There would be no danger of his or Harry's class trying out Quidditch moves during lessons, though he thought that Beth Dunn would be the girl to watch when it came to Seeker trials next year. Harry managed to get a look at her flying when Ron kept her behind for a moment and agreed with Ron's assessment. Ron had made his recommendation to their Head of House, and she'd beamed at them both before offering them a piece of shortbread.
The first match of the season had been Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, as refereed by Professor McGonagal. Her name was also on the plaque that held James Potter's Seeker award. Most students didn't equate swift flight and a knowledge of Quidditch that could shame her students, with the slender, austere Transfiguration mistress. They'd had quite a shock. Dudley was absent for the first match of the season as Professor Sinistra had taken him to St Mungo's to visit his still sleeping mother, and Harry had enjoyed a day of not worrying about his cousin at all.
The second match was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and Professor Sinistra had told Dudley that they would go and visit his mother on Sunday instead, so he could watch the match. She seemed to think that Dudley would find this a treat, and Ron wasn't game to ask how the Muggle felt about it, knowing that a poorly timed remark would only hurt Harry. Ginny had cornered Harry in the change rooms and whispered to him for a good ten minutes, disrupting Ron's usual treat of being able to fiddle Harry's robes and gear into place. Ron made a mental note to pout to his fiancé about this at a later stage and followed his sister out to the box where they all mounted their brooms.
Ron watched his partner zoom confidently to his usual spot and moved to hover in front of his goalposts as he always did. Professor Snape was refereeing this match and the Gryffindor team were warned to be on their best behaviour. They all knew he'd favour his own House, who would be playing as dirty as they could.
The look on Harry's face was blissful, and Ron stifled a snigger. Usually Harry only looked like that during sex. Ron wondered idly if it was possible to have sex on a broomstick and then called his attention back to the game. Ginny had the quaffle and Colin hit a bludger at the Chasers nearest her. When they were forced to duck she zoomed ahead and beat the Slytherin keeper for a goal through the third hoop.
The Slytherin Chasers grabbed the quaffle and tore up the pitch, only to lose the quaffle halfway when Alex Marshfall made a clever tackle. Minutes later the ball was soaring through Slytherins goal again and Ron grinned, the expression growing when he caught sight of Snape's face. Malfoy flew past the redhead, who ignored the sneer and slur from the blonde Seeker, knowing how desperate Malfoy was - desperate to beat Harry once before they graduated.
The crowd roared in disapproval when the Slytherin Beaters hit the third year Gryffindor Chaser instead of the bludger, and she went up to take the penalty. The score was thirty to nothing then, and Ron's breath caught when Harry suddenly exploded into motion, looping around and through the players, coming dangerously close to Slytherins who kicked out at him, his hand stretching out to catch the golden dot just in front of him.
Ron had to take his eyes off his partner as the Slytherins managed to get the quaffle up his end. He kicked the lumpy red ball easily to Ginny, who was off in a flash. The crowd roared again as Malfoy deliberately fouled Harry, who rolled under the other Seeker with a grimace, coming out of the roll directly in the path of a bludger which he only avoided by almost standing his broom on it's tail in the air. The bludger hit Malfoy's foot instead and Harry got out of the way of play, the snitch lost amongst all the movement.
Snape was forced to give another penalty for Malfoy's attempt at blurting, which Alex converted. Forty nothing and Slytherin were in possession of the quaffle. Ron saved that attempt by simply catching it and throwing it casually over his hoops to their third year. She zigzagged up the pitch with the Beaters providing cover for her, eventually making the score fifty nothing.
Harry zoomed forward and down suddenly, heading for the grass at such a speed that Ron's mouth went dry. Malfoy was heading for his partner, a tense look on his face, and Harry dipped down then up, making Malfoy overshoot, heading in totally the wrong direction. Ron's heart was in his mouth as Harry put his broom into a corkscrewing rise, his arm out and fingers outstretched. Moments later he was rising into the air, windblown and triumphant as he held the snitch in his fingers. To Ron's unbiased eyes, he was the sexiest man on the planet.
The crowd yelled in congratulations as Snape blew his whistle to signal the end of the match. A moment later people were booing and yelling as the disappointed Beaters whacked the two bludgers into Harry's body. Ron yelled inarticulately and zoomed forward to try and catch his partner as he fell, his broom lowering slowly to the ground as its rider fell off. Colin and Ginny almost had Harry stopped when Ron reached them. His friend was unconscious and pale. Ron came up from underneath, taking Harry into his arms in front of him and heading quickly towards the hospital windows.
0oo0oo0
Dudley seemed surprised to see Harry at breakfast on Monday, and Harry made a mental note to tell his cousin a little more about Wizarding medicine. The broken bones had been healed on the spot, but the bruises and internal damage had taken a little longer. Ron hadn't been inclined to let him out of bed on Sunday, not that Harry had minded. They'd spent it naked and sweaty, practicing the best kind of medicine.
"How is Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked as he took a place opposite his cousin. Slytherin had withdrawn to its own table in the light of pretty much universal condemnation after their Beaters attack on Harry. Ex-Beaters actually, Snape had no choice but to ban them from play. Harry made a note to go and sit at the Slytherin table for dinner, and helped himself to pumpkin juice and cereal.
"She's still asleep," Dudley sighed, "But the… Healers? The Healers said that they might be able to wake her up next week."
"Good," Harry nodded and turned his attention to Beth who was pressed against his side, "What's up Miss Dunn?"
She giggled a little, but reached up to touch the bruises still visible on his wrists and cheek. Her eyes were shadowed and Harry gave her a cautious one-armed hug. He was still very bruised, and moving slowly this morning, though a few days of Madam Pomfrey's bruise ointment would soon see him right. Ron had a lot of fun anointing Harry, almost too much, they'd nearly been late this morning.
"It's just bruising, the rest is all fixed," Harry reassured her and let go. He started spooning up the cereal quickly, needing to get finished so he could set up for today's lesson. Beth let go of him and turned her attention to the Hufflepuff next to her. Harry didn't know why she'd latched on to him and Ron, but it was a bit like having a little sister. He didn't mind. Dudley finished his toast, and Harry grinned, standing up and swallowing the last of his juice.
"Is that game always like that?" Dudley asked as they walked through the front doors, and Harry glanced at him curiously. Dudley sounded… intrigued.
"Pretty much," Harry nodded, "Although it's always worse when Slytherin play, because they like to play dirty, and their Seeker has never beaten me."
"How many games have you lost?" Dudley hitched his bag up, "And could you teach me to fly a broom?"
"I've never lost a game that I've been in from start to finish," Harry stated the fact quietly, "And I don't know if a broom would respond to your commands."
Seeing the disappointment on Dudley's face made Harry feel a little mean. This was the first thing that his cousin had shown avid interest in, and it should be encouraged at the least. They reached the courtyard that the first years were using and Harry tugged his cousin over to the equipment shed. He pulled a broom out and put it on the grass to one side.
"Do you remember what to do?" he asked, curious to see if his cousin had paid attention to his lessons at all. He knew that Dudley spent a lot of his time in Harry's classes dividing his attention between his assignments and the classes' activities. Nothing had been said about the scrying, although he had a feeling that Dudley and Ron had talked about it, at least briefly.
"Up!" Dudley put his hand out over the broom. It didn't even twitch. His shoulders slumped and Harry sighed.
"Keep trying, Neville's broom didn't listen to him too well either at first," Harry encouraged and turned away, "I've got to set up for my lesson, so I'll be back in a bit."
Just as the first years entered the courtyard, Dudley gave an excited yell as the broom rose slowly and lazily into his hand. Harry nodded to him, but couldn't take the time to teach the basics all over again. Dudley seemed to understand this, as he went to work on his own studies and Harry mentally picked a time to try and teach his cousin to fly.
0oo0oo0
They had managed to work out a way to manage their bond when transfiguring things, though they would never be able to manage wand less work for this subject, and they had to be in contact at all times. Once Professor McGonagal was sure they could manage the casting without hurting themselves, she started teaching them to transfigure objects from two-dimensional images to three-dimensional realities. She had warned them very sternly that they were never to attempt this with pictures of people or complex living organisms.
"This magic is very powerful, and borders on the Dark. There was an extremely powerful Witch in the past that attempted to perform this spell on a picture of her late husband. The results were horrific and the effort killed her as the spell attempted to transfer her life energy to him. You must promise me you will never attempt it," she eyed them sternly and Ron felt his partner's shudder.
"I promise," Ron said it simply, knowing that Harry would never be able to attempt it on his own, and would never attempt a spell that would risk Ron's life. Harry looked over at him, as if reading his mind. He smiled at Ron happily and added his promise. McGonagal started them on trying to transfigure a picture of a needle into an actual needle. Hermione was watching avidly, and by the end of the lesson they had managed to make the picture fade quite a bit.
"If we master this one, we'll be able to translate our rings from paper to reality," Ron said quietly as they headed to tea. He liked the idea that they would be solely responsible for the creation and design of their wedding bands. Harry nodded, looking a little washed out by the afternoon's lesson.
"You've designed…" Hermione trailed off discreetly and Ron nodded as they entered the Great Hall. Susan Bones waylaid them with a note, and Harry laughed when he read it, handing it over to Ron while still chuckling.
'Are you game to take Hannah and I to the Valentines Ball this year or did we scare you off?'
"I don't know, Harry," Ron pretended to look worried and anxious, "I'm not too keen on a repeat performance."
"I'll protect you," Hermione said briskly, handing the note back to Harry, who nodded and waved at the two girls, "There, there, Ronny."
Harry started laughing again, colour creeping into his cheeks. Ron was glad to see it. That was why he didn't protest too much when Hermione led him by the wrist to a table and sat him down, with Harry still laughing beside him. She dished up for him and then made as if to cut up his food as well. Harry was nearly crying with laughter by that point, much to Malfoy's surprise.
"Oi," Ron protested and took possession of his knife and fork, "Leave it out, Hermione!"
"It's not that funny, Potter," Malfoy's sneer wasn't pretty, and Harry straightened up, getting his laughter under control. Rom sighed in disappointment - the sound of Harry's laughter was addictive.
"Yes it was," Ron told the Slytherin who had come to sit opposite them. Harry stifled a giggle and started helping himself, offering the bowls he had in his hands to Malfoy politely once he was done. Ron kept an eye on Harry to ensure he was putting enough on his plate and then distracted them all by starting a discussion about their Charms homework.
During pudding, Harry seemed to remember something and twisted around, searching the Great Hall.
"What's wrong?" Ron asked, and Harry relaxed with a sigh.
"I was looking for Dudley, but it looks like Beth and her friends have been taking care of him," the green eyed boy shrugged and went back to his custard tart. Ron saw Malfoy's ears prick up at the mention of the Muggle and bit back a sigh of his own. Slytherin was particularly interested in Dudley Dursley, and as far as Ron was concerned it was a match made in Heaven. The bullies deserved each other.
"Why are you so concerned about the Muggle?" Malfoy probed, "What is he to you?"
"A guest of Gryffindor," Ron replied smartly, "Someone that we're supposed to be taking care of."
"But Potter's not a Prefect like us," Malfoy's sly voice was grating on Ron's nerves, "So why should he care one way or another what the Muggle is doing? It's a bit much, even for a Muggle lover like you, Weasley."
Ron put his spoon down slowly, aware of his friends' tension and the hand that Harry slipped onto his leg with a warning to calm down. He folded his arms and glared at Malfoy with impunity. The blonde git had something coming to him with his thinly veiled digs for information. To be honest, Ron had thought that Malfoy would be more discreet about it all.
"Are you doing this on purpose, or is it your idea of friendly conversation to insult your meal companions?" he asked in a quiet voice, "Every time we sit down to a meal with you, you spend the time making not so subtle digs. I would have thought that as a Prefect you'd know better than to go around trying to pick fights. Harry may not have a badge, but he certainly knows how to behave as a Prefect."
Malfoy flushed an ugly red and stood up, storming away from the table, Crabbe and Goyle following reluctantly, leaving behind their fourth helping of pudding. Harry shook his head, his fingers squeezing a very naughty message into Ron's thigh before letting go and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You took a big risk, Ron," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Ron shrugged, his mouth too full to answer politely. The people at their table had been witnesses to the whole thing, and were whispering to each other quietly. That little confrontation would be all over the school by morning, Ron knew. Maybe it would start shutting up the nasty questions and whispers that the Slytherins always seemed to have ready to hand. If not it might at least inspire the other Houses to start telling the Slytherins where to get off.
0oo0oo0
Ron moaned softly as Harry's body opened to him in delicious heat and tension. If remarks like that at dinner got this kind of reward he'd just have to make them more often. Harry leaned forward and took Ron's lips in a hot, sweet kiss, suckling on his tongue until he arched his back against the pillows supporting it and squirmed for air.
His partner's hips began to move in a slow, seductive sway, long fingers whispering words of love and passion all over his heated, sweaty skin. Harry moaned as he moved, a low, tender sound of pleasure and Ron reached up to add his own fingers to their heated conversation.
He'd definitely have to speak out more often…
0oo0oo0
Harry spent about ten minutes making sure that Dudley knew what movements to perform to guide his broom safely, and then stood back, watching his cousin try to get the broom up into his hand again. Petunia Dursley slept on in her bed at St Mungo's and Professor McGonagal had given Harry permission to teach his cousin to ride a broom, providing he could get one to respond to him.
He and Ron had successfully pulled a match, a mirror and a small plain wooden box out of a picture this morning, and as a result Harry was feeling pretty good about things. The permission to teach Dudley to fly was an added bonus, and Ron had agreed to come along too, with the idea that if the broom got away from Dudley he'd be on hand to help Harry get it back under control. It was disconcerting to have the bond suddenly flare to life when you weren't present, and besides, Ron was still not too keen to let Harry spend time alone with Dudley.
Harry wasn't too keen to spend time alone with Dudley either, so he hadn't kicked up a fuss about it at all. He moved to be closer to Ron while he watched his cousin concentrate - his face screwed up in effort and going a little red. Ron had a book out - on closer inspection it was one of Harry's Defence books - and Harry turned his attention to that, reading over Ron's shoulder.
"I was thinking," Ron murmured softly, and pointed to a particular spell, "We ought to put that on the house before we move in. We could Apparate there this Christmas, seal the spell and then by the time Easter rolls around the spell would have truly settled in, and we can plant the garden without worrying about old Tom."
"Hmm," Harry nodded, leaning closer innocently. The days were getting nippy and they both wore Weasley jumpers under their robes just in case they ever got off the ground today, "We'd have to put the growth spell on the house first. The one in the book that Professor McGonagal asked us to get."
"The add-family one?" Ron frowned, "I don't think that's a good idea, mate. I'd rather be in charge of the additions to the house. We should definitely use the 'elastic walls' one, but…"
"Ok," Harry agreed, "You're right, and we can always put it on later if we change our minds. How about the…"
"Look!" Dudley shouted and Harry watched as the broom rose slowly into the air like it had the first time. Harry grinned at his partner and walked over to stand beside his cousin. He raised a hand and the Firebolt glided to his side, hovering at the perfect height for him to mount.
"Ok, I want you to mount the broom," Harry watched closely, "Grip the handle… no, no, you're not trying to wring someone's neck, straighten your wrists. The vee between your finger and thumb should be on the side of the handle, not on top. That's better. Now remember, you want the broom to go up and hover, so you kick off hard and then hold the handle parallel to the ground, with your weight squarely on the cushioning spell."
Dudley swallowed nervously and kicked off hard, shooting up into the air about six feet. He squealed in surprise but managed to level the broom out. Harry kicked off to match him while Ron shrunk the book he'd been reading to fit it in a pocket before joining them.
"Right, now you want to land, by pushing the broom handle down a little - gently! Keep your weight balanced!" Harry breathed a little easier when his cousin managed that. The sound of feet on the gravel warned him that they were about to have an audience, so he told Dudley to kick off again and once they were hovering he told his cousin to put the broom into motion by leaning forward a little and pulling the broom handle up so that they would gain height. Dudley leaned forward very cautiously and pulled the handle up. His broom rose steadily into the sky, wobbling a little as the Muggle tried to hook his feet into the right position. A glance at the courtyard they'd just left showed Draco Malfoy gaping up at them in pure disbelief.
"Lean forward a little more and pull your left foot up higher," Harry coached and watched as the broom steadied and sped up to a slow cruising speed. He only had one hand on his own broom, the other holding his wand. Harry had learned to fly one handed whilst training to catch the snitch, and this rate of speed was no challenge to him at all. His time teaching the first years to fly had made him a lot more articulate when it came to explaining methodology.
A glance ahead showed that they would clear the castle roof nicely and he decided that they should fly out over the lake. There were usually clear skies there and no one would be able to accuse him or Ron of trying to spy on someone's Quidditch practice.
"I want you to bank to the left until we're heading for the lake," Harry called over the slight breeze that was being caused by their movement. He saw Ron tighten his grip on his own broom, ready to take evasive action if the Muggle totally and utterly messed this up. Dudley managed it though, and soon they were over the water.
Once they'd done a lap of the lake, Harry called to Dudley that he should practice turning and changing height, then pulled back so that he would be behind his cousin and out of the way. Ron joined him, flying so close that it would only be a very short reach to touch him.
"He's not bad for a Muggle," Ron chuckled, "Of course, at this speed its no great challenge."
"I imagine this is fast enough," Harry said reprovingly, "If he stuffs up at this speed we've got time to straighten him out. You want him going full bat and crashing into the lake?"
"It would be entertaining," Ron wore what Harry privately called the 'Fred and George' look; a mixture of mischief and malice that sat oddly on his friend's normally warm and friendly face. Harry shook his head and decided not to encourage him with a response.
Dudley was zigzagging left to right steadily, rising into the air and then lowering towards the lake in regular movements. There was a rush of air and Harry whirled, pointing his wand at the person who'd just arrived and then quickly pointing it away again when he realised that Professor Snape was flying beside him on one of the Slytherin House Quidditch brooms.
"Sorry Professor!" Harry paled, sure that he was about to receive a detention and a few hundred points off Gryffindor. Snape merely sneered at him in a condescending manner and then gestured at Dudley.
"What do you think you're doing?" his voice was very cold, "Imagine, if you would, my surprise when Draco Malfoy comes to tell me that the great Harry Potter is teaching a Muggle to fly!"
"Professor McGonagal gave me permission to try after Dudley expressed an interest in learning. She didn't think we'd ever get him off the ground, but if we did we had permission to teach him the basics," Harry replied evenly, as if his heart wasn't thumping in his chest. Snape growled under his breath, and waved his arm again.
"Over the lake? Do you want him to drown?" he hissed and Harry shook his head, glancing at Ron for support. His partner moved so the Professor could see him as well and answered for Harry, his voice as respectful as possible when shouting over a small, wind tossed distance.
"He can swim, Professor, and we're going so slow that we'd have time to arrest any fall or uncontrolled dive."
"Be that as it may, you will return to solid ground immediately!" Snape didn't bother to sound respectful or polite, and Harry suppressed a sigh. He sped up, bringing his broom around so that he would approach Dudley from the front so as not to startle him. Once they were side by side, Harry called across that they were to return to the castle. Dudley whined a little about it until Snape shouted in his other ear. One hastily corrected ascent later, the Muggle headed obediently to the shore, following the black robed teacher with Harry and Ron on either side.
0oo0oo0
Ron took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Harry was leaning back against his chest, their tangled hands gripping several pencils. When they had told Hermione about their intention to design and transfigure their own wedding bands, she had been a little concerned that they would lose themselves in the trance that was necessary for the protection and binding spells essential for the design to be a true reflection of their entwined lives.
They would be essentially auto-writing, or in this case auto-drawing, and after what happened to Harry when it came to trances and visions, she had insisted on being present when they made the attempt in case something went wrong. They chose a Saturday when Gryffindor wasn't playing Quidditch and shut themselves up in their room.
Hermione was sitting in the chair they had conjured for her - an electric blue plush Edwardian armchair - her wide eyes on their faces. She looked a little teary, and her hands were knotted in her robes. She didn't look scared or sad, though, and Ron wondered what they had said aloud during the trance to affect her that way.
"Hermy?" Ron cleared his throat, "You ok?"
"Yes," the whisper was awed, and Ron smiled at her hesitantly before looking down at the pad on Harry's lap. It was empty, though the paper showed clearly that there had been three pictures on it. Harry was still and lax in Ron's arms, and a moment's thought reassured the redhead that his partner was simply tired from their casting.
"Where…" Ron trailed off and Hermione pointed to the mantle above the fireplace. There was a small, plain wooden box there, that hadn't been when all this started. Ron could sense the tingle of new magic coming from it, as well as powerful protection charms. The box was sealed against all tampering, and some instinct told Ron that it would only open during their nuptials.
Harry stirred and collected the pencils from Ron, sending the pad to the top of the bookcase where it normally sat, and the pencils back to their box. He then turned on his side, snuggled into Ron's chest and went to sleep, 'stepping back' as he practiced the Occlumency. Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione blinked a little, then laughed softly.
"He looks so peaceful," Hermione whispered and Ron snorted. Harry was only a light sleeper when he wasn't practicing Occlumency, in order to be able to wake quickly. Right now Dobby could dance about the room in a tea cosy, singing carols at the top of his lungs and Harry wouldn't wake.
"Relax," he said in his normal voice, "He's too tired to wake unless there's some emergency. You can speak normally."
"Oh," Hermione couldn't seem to take her eyes off the man cuddled into Ron's chest, "Will you be casting any more spells like that?"
"Uh… oh, you mean the translation spell? I think so. Harry said that if this worked we should try producing some amulets for the family. We were going to try to have them all ready by Christmas. Do you still want to supervise? You've got to be pretty busy right now," Ron knew that Hermione took a few more classes than he did, and took her studying seriously to boot.
"I'd rather you didn't try this alone," she bit her lip, "But I didn't realise how… well, how intimate this would be. You love each other so much…"
"We love you too, Hermy," Ron interrupted, "It's… it's just a different kind of love. You're our best friend."
The effort to articulate the feelings that he and Harry held for the Head Girl was well worth the effort when her smile lit up the room. Ron patted Harry's back and Summoned his chess set. There was no point in being bored while he acted as a combined mattress and teddy to his fiancé. Hermione levitated her armchair closer and they set a hover charm on the board so they could both reach it easily.
0oo0oo0
"Why won't she wake up?" Dudley frowned at the Healer and Harry shifted uneasily. Ron's arm snuck around his waist to soothe him, and he nodded at his partner in thanks. Life had reached an even more hectic pace lately, with the translation of the amulets for the Weasley family. Their mantle had gained six more boxes in the last few weeks, each with a name carved on the lid. From the magical signature on each box, Harry knew that only the intended recipient could open them. They would have to wait until Christmas to see what they had designed.
Healer Goodsby stood beside the Muggle, her hands folded at her waist. She was watching the teen closely, glancing up at Harry now and then. When they had first arrived at St Mungo's the Healer had kept herself between Harry and Dudley, but now that they were at Aunt Petunia's bedside she was focussing on Harry's cousin and his distress.
"We're sure that she will," Goodsby said gently, "Her injuries are completely healed, and the curses have been properly removed. I understand that some Muggles have been known to slip into a sleep like this. It's not a common condition with Wizards, we tend to wake as soon as whatever ails us has retreated."
"Lucky you," Dudley snapped, "That's no help to me!"
"Dudley," Harry beat Ron to it, but not by much, "Shouting at the Healers won't help."
"What will help then?" Dudley snapped at him, and Ron let go, moving to stand in front of Harry protectively, blocking him from his cousin's view. Harry placed his hand lightly in between Ron's shoulders, just touching lightly, letting Ron know he was all right.
"Dry up Dursley," Ron growled, sounding so much like Hagrid had that very first meeting that Harry laughed, his fingers explaining why before Ron could get angry with him, and the shock of hearing the words once directed at his father shut Dudley up.
"Healer Goodsby? Is there anything we can do?" Harry asked, not moving out of Ron's protection. She sighed and shook her head in regret. Dudley slumped and reached out to take his mothers hand.
"We can only wait for her to wake up," Goodsby replied, "We'll let Professor Dumbledore know the minute she does, so you can come see her."
Dudley nodded and Ron ushered Harry out of the ward, to give the Muggle some time alone with his mother, and put some space between Harry and his cousin. Harry leaned against the wall opposite the ward doors and smiled at his fiancé. From the tense look on Ron's face, the redhead was expecting Harry to make some kind of protest about his behaviour in there. Nothing was further from Harry's mind. There were times when it felt very good to be protected by someone else, and Harry had never had much experience of that as a child. Rather than discuss it though, he decided to change the subject to something much nicer. There was no one in the hallway with them at the moment, and no one would be able to sneak up on them.
"I gave the Headmaster his invitation this morning, and he's agreed to let us send the rest with the school owls tonight," he watched Ron's face light up, and smiled in response. Their wedding was approaching rapidly, and there was a lot to do if they were to be organised on time.
"Ok, we'll do it when the rest are asleep," Ron nodded, "We can hand Hermione, Neville, Hagrid, Remus and Professor McGonagal theirs as we see them tomorrow. Are you sure it's ok that people send their reply to Mum and Dad instead of us?"
"It makes sense," Harry nodded, "We wouldn't be able to explain all the owls to the rest of the school, and you know I don't want Malfoy nosing around it. The Death Eaters would be all over us."
"You're right," Ron came to lean against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his robe. He looked like he was thinking about something, and from the glances he was getting, Harry was betting that Ron wasn't too sure of his reaction.
"What if Dudley is still around then? The Healers can't say when his mother will wake, and…"
"Do you want him there?" Harry asked in surprise. He knew that Ron tolerated the Muggle for his sake, treating Dudley politely enough, like two strangers forced to work together. Ron sighed.
"He's your family," he shook his head, "I just thought… you might like to have your family there. I know that as a Muggle he won't understand… but the alternative is to leave him at the school for the Christmas holidays, and I think that Malfoy is staying too."
"We'll see," Harry said in a noncommittal voice. He didn't want to even think of Dudley's reaction to two men getting married. He'd heard enough of the Muggles comments about 'sissy boy queers' in his time at Privet Drive to know that the reaction wouldn't be a positive one. At the same time, leaving his cousin unsupervised at Hogwarts - the teachers didn't count - while Malfoy stalked him wasn't a good idea either. Ron cleared his throat, drawing Harry out of his circular thoughts, and he looked up at the redhead, who was going a little pink around the ears.
"We haven't discussed what we'll wear," Ron eyed the floor as if it might suddenly rise up and attack him. Harry frowned a little. He'd assumed that they would wear their formal robes; he certainly didn't have anything else worth wearing. The robes that Molly Weasley had bought him were nice enough for everyday wear, but not for a wedding. He'd had the formal ones repaired after the Valentines Ball, as he didn't fancy going shopping for a new set.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, and Ron shifted a little, eyeing him nervously, "I thought we'd wear our formal robes."
"There is a tradition in the Weasley family that the couple getting married wear a particular set of robes," Ron rubbed a hand over his head, "Mum owled me this morning before you and Dudley came down to breakfast about it. She wants to know our sizes so she can get started making them."
"Oh," Harry looked at him blankly. To be honest, he was worried that Mrs Weasley was going to be stuck doing far too much for their wedding and wouldn't have time to enjoy herself. When he said as much to Ron, his partner grinned, shaking his head fondly.
"After all this time, you haven't figured Mum out," Ron chided in a teasing tone. Relieved that his friend wasn't upset by that, Harry looked inquiring and waited for him to continue.
"Harry, there's nothing she'd like more than to organise the whole thing for us. And you know that we have some time when the holidays start to help her out."
"I was thinking… don't go mental at me, ok?" Harry hesitated, and Ron folded his arms, hitting his partner with his own inquiring look. Harry grinned and took a deep breath, "I was thinking that we could ask Dobby to come. I know that might seem strange, but he is a friend, and he's done so much for us already…"
"Good idea," Ron nodded, reaching out to rub Harry's arm, "And knowing Dobby he'll be eager to help us out. We'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore's permission to take him away from Hogwarts, but we can easily do up another invitation for him to make it all official."
Harry sighed in relief and thanked Ron with a very brief kiss, pulling back when he heard the doors open. Healer Goodsby smiled at them as she led Dudley out into the hallway. They made arrangements for Dudley to continue his weekly visits and headed back to school. They had a lot to do, and not much time to do it.
0oo0oo0