"Ron. Ron. Are you awake?"
Ron shifted slightly. Go away, he thought fuzzily. I'm sleeping with Harry. Hee. Sleeping with Harry. He snuggled against Harry's warm, furry body.
"Come on, Ron. Hermione can't find Crookshanks and we need you to help us look."
Wait… furry? Ron opened his eyes and found himself face-to-squashed-face with Crookshanks. "ARRRRRG!"
The door burst open, and Ginny rushed into the room. "Oh, good, you've found Crookshanks! Hermione'll be so happy!" She squealed, picked up the cat, and left the room just as fast as she'd come in.
Ron groaned and rubbed his eyes. What time was it? Why was everyone up so early?
A loud roar of "RONALD WEASLEY!" answered his question. Today was supposed to be the family picnic. Ron looked around and spied his watch resting on the edge of a table. 12:15. Hm. "Oh!" Ron yelped. He was running late. Very late. As in four hours and fifteen minutes late.
"Coming, Mum!" he yelled down the stairs as he leapt from his bed. "I'll be right there, I'm just, er, tidying my room!" He shuffled some papers and dropped a few books to prove his point before slamming his door shut. Praising whatever god inspired Ginny to hang up his clean clothes yesterday, Ron threw on a shirt and clean trousers as fast as he could. He was halfway through grabbing his swim trunks when the night's events caught up to him. Oh, he thought rather dimly. I guess Harry's already downstairs.
His heart sank. Ron absentmindedly fiddled with the swim trunks as he mulled over the matter. Okay, so Harry had woken up and gone to get ready. Okay, so he hadn't woken up overjoyed at being in bed with Ron and then woken Ron by giving him— But this wasn't bad. No, this was a good thing. Harry needed to be taken care of right now. He didn't need any more stress. Right. It was better if Ron just didn't mention it at all. That wouldn't be hard. Of course not.
"RONALD WEASLEY, IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR BEHIND DOWN IN HERE THIS INSTANT, I SWEAR I'LL SNAP YOUR WAND IN HALF!"
"I'm coming!" Ron shouted back. "Keep your hair on," he added, but not even Pidwidgeon heard it. He sighed, grabbed his bag, and left the room.
The day was hot. Of that Ron was certain. It was swelteringly, blisteringly, unbearably hot. Still, Mrs. Weasley insisted that they walk to the pond in case any Muggles happened to catch a glimpse of brooms soaring through the air.
"But Mum, that's rubbish!" Fred had exclaimed.
"He's right," George had agreed. "We're not walking all that way when we can Apparate flawlessly."
"Well, there was that time in The Leaky Cauldron…" Hermione had begun to say.
Fred had flapped his hand impatiently at her and said, "Oh, bother with all the details. We're going." Then he and George had Disapparated with a loud pop!
And so Ron found himself waiting for Mr. Weasley to escort Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and himself to the pond.
"You'll be alright dears, won't you?" Mrs. Weasley asked anxiously as she gathered the baskets. "You won't get lost, will you?"
"Oh, Molly, you fret too much!" Mr. Weasley gasped as he struggled to inflate his ducky inner-tube manually. Harry had described the Muggle way of inflating things at breakfast two days ago, and ever since then, Mr. Weasley had decided to practice on pool toys. Of course, he had a little trouble in the beginning when he misunderstood what Harry meant by "blow up", but by the fourteenth duck he had finally figured it out.
"Alright, dears. We'll see you at the pond, then. Don't come too late; Fred and George will eat all the food if you do."
"Us, too," chimed in Bill and Charlie. The grinned wickedly and Disapparated. Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes and followed her sons.
"Well," Hermione said. Her voice echoed a bit. The house was empty for the first time in weeks. Even Crookshanks was quiet for once. Harry, too, stood silently by the stairs. Ron tried to keep his eyes off of his friend. After all, Harry must think he was some kind of freak—if he remembered the night, that is. Maybe he had forgotten. Still, from the way Harry was avoiding him, Ron had a sneaking suspicion that he remembered the night perfectly.
"Shall we go then?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley. He slung his towel over his shoulder and turned his back to Ron.
Mr. Weasley nodded to the door as he spluttered and gasped for breath. "Yes, let's… mother… waiting for… go," he finished weakly.
The group walked out of the house and into the scorching heat. Ron screwed up his eyes as he adjusted to the blinding light. Harry picked up his pace until he was a good distance ahead of the gang. Hermione cast a worried look at Ron and hurried after Harry. Mr. Weasley strolled far behind them, so Ron was left walking next to Ginny.
They walked in silence for a while. Ginny's copper hair seemed to glow under the sun, and her skin was already tanned and freckled. Ron had to admit it: she was growing into a beautiful young woman. She's the kind of girl who'll break a boy's heart, he thought to himself. Probably Harry's heart, he reminded himself sadly, because Harry's not gay.
"Ron?" Ginny said suddenly. "Look, I know this seems rather rude and awkward, but it's the only time I've had alone with you and I can't guarantee I'll get any other time with you, and since Dad's back there with his duck, I just thought… well…"
Ron stared at his sister. "Gin? What is it?" Please don't tell me that you like Harry, he thought desperately; please, please, anything but that.
"Well, I… Ron, are you gay?"
Ron stopped dead in his tracks. "Am I… what? I… Gin! I… I don't…" He paused and took a shaky breath. "Does Mum know?" he whispered.
Ginny laughed. "God, Ron, it's about time you told me!" She pulled Ron into a fierce hug. Ron laughed, too; it felt good to finally tell somebody.
"So how'd you know?" he asked. "What gave it away? I know; it was my uncanny knack for fashion!" He held his head up high and strutted next to his sister.
Ginny snorted as she glanced at her brother's wrinkled shirt and rumpled hair. "Please! Honestly, Ron, your clothes are even worse than Snape's! I only figured it out because of Harry."
"Harry?" Ron's palms began to sweat. "What's he got to do with it?"
"Well, Ron, it's obvious. I've seen how much you've watched him this summer. You care for him more than anyone else—except maybe Mum," she added with a grin. "I know you do your best to hide it, but it's not working. Hermione knows something is up. Actually, she's the one who made me think you were gay to begin with. She— " Ginny stopped, checked to make sure that Mr. Weasley was far behind, and continued. "Well, she told me she found A History of the Gay Wizarding Community in your closet last week, and the checkout date was April 5th, so it had to have been either you or the twins playing a joke, so… But you know how she is. She knows everything, Hermione. So you might as well tell her, Ron, because otherwise she'll drag it out of me."
Ron shook his head and whistled. "God, it took me sixteen years to figure out I'm gay, and Hermione gets it in a week?" He sighed and grinned. "I'll tell her tonight, Gin. Thanks." He pulled her into a bear hug and ruffled her hair.
"Oi! Watch the hair!" she yelped.
Ron laughed and ducked her swat. "Catch me if you can!" he shouted. Wind in his hair, Ron raced down the path with his heart much lighter than it had been before.