Weee, chapter 12! This can't be said for certain (for writing is most of the time unpredictable and (it's supposed to be) flowing) but I think the good stuff is going to start happening real soon. Most of the filler appears to be over (aside from a few future chapters for fun) and the drama shall unfold. Slowly but surely, this story is unfolding! Like... well, you can decide for yourself what it's unfolding like because I have a very dirty mind I should keep to myself.

Warnings: Parental talks, mention of previous homosexual relationships.

Chapter 12 - Just Harry

The boys managed to struggle into some pajamas and fall asleep before Harry's parents made it home. They fell asleep in each other's arms. James and Lily did not return home with Jason until late in the afternoon. Harry had already untangled himself from Ron, climbed out of bed, and was putting his clothes in the laundry hamper when Lily knocked softly. She poked her head in the door after Harry's consent to enter.

"Pizza for dinner, honey." She looked over at Ron, who was snoring on the bed still. "Wake up Ron, and you two come downstairs."

"Thanks, Mom."

Harry waited until she left and closed the door behind her before he turned back to the bed. He chuckled as Ron gave a particularly loud snore. Harry crept towards the bed as quiet as possible. He sat on the edge by Ron's legs.

"Ron," he said, giving Ron's leg a little shake. "Dinner time, Ron. Wakie, wakie."

Ron grunted and rolled onto his side. He sat up, looking blearily at the empty bed beside him. "Harry? Where are you?"

Harry climbed up beside Ron who was still half asleep. "Right here, love," he whispered in Ron's ear.

He moved to Ron's neck, placing a small kiss against the skin there. Ron shivered a bit under his lips. Harry smiled to himself before nipping at Ron's neck. A small moan passed between Ron's lips. The sounds encouraged him. He bit into the side of Ron's neck, rolled the skin between his teeth and sucked on it. He held himself up over Ron on all fours as Ron moaned and squirmed underneath him. Ron was very awake and tangling his hands in Harry's hair. He ran his hands down Harry's back as Harry sat up.

"Dinner, baby," Harry said. Before Ron could get another hold on him, Harry sprang off the bed and ran for the bedroom door.

Ron stared after him in shocked. Harry stopped at the door to thumb his nose at Ron then continued running. The redhead gathered his wits enough to scramble out of the bed... before falling on his face. His feet had gotten tangled in Harry's bedsheet. Harry peeked around the corner at Ron on the floor. He could not contain his laughter.

"Think that's funny, do you," asked Ron, rubbing his forehead where it had hit the floor.

"Very," answered Harry.

"Then may I suggest that you run, Mr. Potter. I happen to think you should be punished for laughing."

He jumped up then and gave chase after Harry. Neither of them could keep from laughing as they ran down the stairs to the kitchen. Harry remained just out of reach for Ron. Ron's legs were longer, though, and he finally caught his raven-haired lover in the hallway before the kitchen door. He pinned him against the wall.

"Caught you," he whispered, smiling.

"So you did." Harry smiled up at Ron. He lowered his eyes, then peeked coyly up at him from under his lashes, acheiving a spectacular imitation of a shy schoolgirl. "Are you expecting some kind of reward?"

Ron did not answer; he stole a kiss as forefit. His lips lingered against Harry's just long enough for Harry's to melt against his. He pulled back then, and smiling at Harry, continued into the kitchen.

Lily had the pizza already sat on plates. James was sitting at the table, eating a slice and looking over some papers. Jason sat happily in his highchair beside his mother and happily had a piece of crust stuck in his mouth. Chloe, however, was a stormcloud over the whole scene. She sat at the table, picking cheese and topping from her slice and throwing it down at her plate. With the smoking glare she had fixed on the plate, it was amazing that the styrofoam did not go up in flames. She was clearly in one of her post-hissy tantrum moods. Harry once again wondered about the fight she had had with Draco as he sat down. There was no doubt that she was upset about exactly that. She spared a glowering glance at Ron before turning her hazel eyes on Harry. She glared at her older brother in what was very close to pure, unadulterated hatred. Confused, Harry immearsed himself into his pizza.

He had become accustomed to Chloe blaming all of her problems, no matter what they were, on him. He never took it to heart for he was not the only one who bore the great burden that was Chloe's plethora of woe. Everyone had a part in the million and one reasons her life sucked. After all their years of sibling-living, Harry had learned that it was just best to ignore her and let her say what she wanted. There was just less argument that way. For some reason, though, it was all different. He still was not even sure what the arguement had been about, and was not likely to find out while there was a possibility their parents could hear. The whole situation irked him.

Dinner that night was a rather quiet affair. James was absorbed in his paperwork, Lily in her laptop, though each would add their part into the sparse conversation. Chloe continued on with her moody silence, and Jason was quiet aside from his baby jabberings that no one could understand anyway. The boys chatted with Mr. and Mrs. Potter when conversation was started, but they mainly exchanged glances when no one was looking. Harry continued to ignore Chloe's dirty looks in favor of Ron's bedroom eyes.

"So, Chole," said James, his tone conversational as he looked at his middle child. "What did you do today?"

Chloe looked up from stabbing her pizza with a butter knife. She barely spared James a glance before fixing her glare on Harry once again. Her eyes burned at him, clearly accusing him of messing things up for her once more. Harry felt his temper begin to rise.

"Nothing," she grumbled, still holding Harry's eyes.

"That's nice... and where did you go?"

"Nowhere."

"Something wrong, dear," Lily asked. She had paused in feeding Jason to take in the scene at the table.

"No. Well..." Her face started to glow with the growing smirk on her face. She turned her face to her parents, eyes full of worry and innocence, not the malicious anger she had just displayed to Harry. He knew what was coming. "Aside from..."

"Chloe, don't," he said.

"Don't what, Harry? Tell Mum and Dad what happened this afternoon? That the cat didn't really break the china dish, but it happend when..."

"Shut up." His teeth were clenched now. "Just shut your face, Chloe. Now."

"But, Harry... They're only concerned about you..."

"All right," James said. He stood up, looking between his children. "Out with it, Chloe. The whole thing."

Chloe spared a malevolent look at her brother before looking up at her father again. "Harry had another fit today, Daddy... I was so afraid... I didn't know what to do... He spazzed all over the kitchen, screaming about that Lord Voldythingy again..."

The whole room went silent. Under the table, Ron put a hand on Harry's knee to calm him. The gesture did nothing to calm Harry, however. He was gripping the table as if he was going to flip it over at any minute. James and Lily were staring at him with those tell-tale looks. Harry knew exactly what was coming next and there was nothing at all he coould do about it. Behind his parents, Chloe was smiling at him, the smug and self-satisified smile the likes of a pampered fat cat that had finally caught the mouse it had sought for so long. Anger began to eat at his insides.

"Harry, is it true," Lily asked. Harry said nothing.

"Answer us, son," said James. Still, Harry remained silent. "I see... Tomorrow we'll call to set up an appointment for you. Harry... You're grounded for a week. You shouldn't have kept this from your mother and I. What if something serious is wrong?"

"Oh yes," Harry said, no longer able to contain his anger. "We all know I'm crazy. Why set up an appointment? Just throw me in the nuthouse right now!"

"Harry, lower your voice," James said in a stern voice.

"Of course I'm in trouble," Harry stormed, ignoring his father's order. He knew now that there was something he could do: Give Chloe a taste of her own medicine. "Of course I get sent to get a labatomy! Princess Chloe over there is becoming a regular teenage trollop under your noses! But, of COURSE, I get grounded because I see things! Right! Perfect! Great!"

"You're grounded for two weeks, Harry, and don't talk about your sister like that."

Harry had not thought it was possible for him to get any more upset. But as his parents heaped on more punishment and Chloe sat there, a smile still on her smug face, he was proven wrong. his anger burst up through his body and threatened to send him into a screaming tantrum that would rival even Chloe's worst. He sprang up from his seat and pointed an accusatory finger at his sister. Jason had started crying, Lily now holding him to try to calm him, but it barely scratched the surface of Harry's rage.

"What Chloe forgot to tell you," he shouted, "is she had Draco Malfoy over last night! She was right in the middle of buggering him when I interrupted with my "episode!" But oops! You weren't supposed to know that, were you!"

Harry grinned in triumph as Chloe's face fell. James turned to his only daughter, anger clearly written all over his face. It took a few minutes for him to form coherent speech. Harry knew he had finally beat Chloe at her own game. Their parents were very avid about them refraning from pre-marital sex. He was a joyfully spiteful bundle of nerves inside.

"Chloe... is there something you would like to tell us...?"

"But, Daddy - "

"No," James said in a loud voice that bordered on shouting. It was rarely ever that James shouted, and when he did, then something was really upsetting him. "No 'But, Daddy!' I want the truth! Have you been having boys over?"

"Yes..." Chloe said, looking down at her hands. Harry nearly crowed in victory.

"You're grounded for the next month. No television, no phones - cell or otherwise, no computer. You don't go anywhere but home and school, and you're taking the bus. And you're never to see that boy again, are we clear?"

"Daddy!" she shouted, jumping up out of her chair. James had obviously hit her where it hurt. It just kept getting sweeter and sweeter for Harry.

"No arguments!"

"But - "

"I said, NO arguments!"

"HarryhasbeenhavingsexwithRon," Chloe shouted before her father could stop her.

Things were not so sweet for Harry anymore. He did not feel like crowing. Inside, he was ice-cold with dread. His victory over Chloe wrenched itself from his hands and flew away on little white wings before he might seize it again. He stood his ground, however, when James turned to him again. Harry was not ashamed of what he had done with Ron, and he would not let his parents think so on any circumstances.

"We'll talk about this later," James said. His voice was low and his eyes were angry. This had a far more profound effect on his children than the shouting did. "Ron... I'm sorry you had to see all this."

"It's all right, Mr. Potter," said Ron, who had been quiet through the whole ordeal. His hand had long ago found Harry's and intertwined their fingers together. He gave Harry's hand a little squeeze. "Thank you for dinner. Harry, walk me to the door..."

He was up and tugging Harry toward the door before the latter could protest. Harry could see his ears burning a rose pink, but he seemed to be in control of the whole situation. At the door, he pulled Harry out into the night with him. Harry was still shaking in anger.

"Hey," Ron whispered. He pushed Harry's hair away from his face. "Hey, look at me..."

Harry obediently raised his eyes to look up at Ron. The blue eyes he met reassured him that Ron would take care of him. He knew that he would be safe with Ron by his side. Everything would be all right. Ron brushed a kiss over his lips then gathered Harry in his arms.

"I love you, Harry," his said to the top of Harry's head. "And nothing is going to change that. Just try to keep your temper when your parents talk to you. I'll see you tomorrow, I promise, okay?"

"Okay." Harry smiled up at Ron.

"Okay. I love you. Promise."

"I love you too, Ron."

The two hugged once more before Ron pulled away. He kissed Harry again. Harry smiled a him as he walked away. He stood there on the porch to watch Ron's retreating back until he turned the corner and disappeared from view. If he could have, he would have stayed there until the end of eternity. It would have been so much better than facing his parents. But, he knew what he had to do. With a sigh, he went back into the house and to the living room where he knew his parents and Chloe would be waiting for him.

James was already in the middle of preaching to Chloe when he reached the doorway. Lily was coming back down the stairs after putting Jason to bed. She sat down on the arm of James's chair. Harry knew that she would not come to his aid this time. He was going to be totally at James's mercy.

Chloe was sitting on the sofa, her chin set defiantly and tears threatening to spill down onto her cheeks. She was holding to the coushions as if she just might rip them apart. Harry did not feel a bit of sympathy for his little sister, not even when their father forbid her indefinately from seeing Draco Malfoy again. He was sure it was for the better, anyhow. Draco Malfoy was nothing but trouble.

"Now, go to your room, and if you dare to sneak out that window or sneak someone in, I'll nail it shut," James said. "Am I clear, young lady?"

"Transparent..."

She stormed up and stomped out of the living room like a five-year-old would. Harry, who was still standing in the doorway, merely smiled at her. She burst into tears then, and ran up the stairs. Her door slammed soon after. James turned to him then.

"Sit."

Harry moved to the couch as slow as he thought he would get away with. He was not at all keen to have this conversation with his father, and he knew it was coming whether he was willing or not. James watched as he sat on the sofa. He resumed his seat in the armchair. For a moment, no one said anything. Father and son sat, looking at one another, studying identical faces and different eyes. Then James sighed. He pushed a hand through his hair as Harry tended to do when he was nervous or upset. He looked at his son again.

"I was wondering when this would happen," he said.

If there had been anything he expected to hear from his father, it was definitely not that. He had expected yelling. He had expected disappointment. He had expected more punishment and being told he would never be able to see Ron again. His temper abaited slightly. Somewhere, deep in him, he wondered if this calm acceptance was what he really wanted. Harry half wanted any reason at all to hate his parents. He needed something to add to his anger over being sent to a shrink.

"What?"

"You and Ron have always had a way between you," James said. He was not angry now, Harry could tell. "Ever since you were little. The whole family treated you as if you were something fraglie since... Well, since the... incident..."

The incident. Lily had had a hard time bearing Harry as a child. The doctors told her that it was likely she would miscarry before Harry came to term. They had been right. Five and a half months into the pregnancy, Lily had gone into labor while doing the dishes one morning. Nine hours later, a dangerously small Harry was born, the umbilical cord wrapped around his tiny neck and his face blue. He hadn't been breathing. For three long minutes, the doctors had preformed CPR on baby Harry, fruitlessly.

Finally, they got him breathing, though it was shallow. He was hooked up to IVs and oxygen machines. The doctors told his parents that he might not live, and if he did, it would be a very slim chance he would see age nine. His lungs were weak, and they could not be sure of how long he had been without air. There had been the possiblity of brain damage. No one had expected Harry to make it through the night.

But he did. His improvement was slow, but it was there, and that was enough to keep the little sparks of faith in his parents and the doctors. He made it through a week, then two, then three, and a month. His parents were finally allowed to have their baby, their Harry, their boy who lived. The doctors cautioned them again on his chances of survival.

Harry's entire childhood, he was treated as some especially fragile porceline doll. His parents and family did everything to keep him safe aside from putting him in a bubble or wrapping him in cotton. They were reluctant to release him into the care of the pre-school instructor, and pressed upon her the importance of his condition. Harry grew into a healthy little boy over the years. His parents continued to caution his teachers year after year, they continued to baby him, and even after Chloe was born, Harry was the one they worried about. Lily had bore Chloe full-term, she had been a healthy, chubby little baby, and Harry was still so small for his age. He remained priority in the worry catagory. In fact, they had never really stopped worrying so much about him.

"Ron was your first friend. He didn't treat you as some person with an illness, or handle you with special care. To him, you were just Harry, and that endeared him to you. That time when you got pneumonia when you were twelve and none of us thought you would pull through, Ron was at your bedside as much as possible. It was almost as if he was watching over you." James chuckled. "I suppose he was. After you recovered, you two were even closer. Ron has looked after you since then. I suspected that it was only a matter of time before you two... Well, before you two realized how much you need one another. Because you do, Harry. You see Ron how he wants to be seen, as a person, not just another Weasley. And Ron... he takes care of you. Always has, and I know he always will." He paused and looked up at his son. "That doesn't mean I fully approve of what you're doing, mind you. I know you and Ron feel strongly for one another, there's no doubt about that... but I want you to think about this long and hard, okay?"

"Dad," Harry said, finally getting over his astonishment. "I love Ron. And he loves me."

"Just hear me out, son. You're still young, you have all the time in the world left ahead of you. What seems important now may not matter so much in a few days, or a week, or a month. Trust me, Harry, what feels like love may only be fleeting interest."

"How do you know?"

James sighed again. He looked to the stairs; Lily was still upstairs. "In high school, I... tried things. Like you are now..."

"I know, Dad. Sirius already told me about you and him and Remus."

"Good, good." James looked as if he was glad that he didn't actually have to say the words to his son. "Then I suppose he also told you how i thought I was in love with... him..."

"Sirius! You and... Oh my God..." The mental image Harry recieved was... wrong. James and Sirius had always been like brothers. Harry could not picture them in any other situation.

"Sirius," James laughed. "Me and Sirius? Hell no, Harry!" He wiped his eyes under his glasses, still chuckling a little. He smiled at his son before continuing. "No, me and Remus." This, Harry found more astonishing.

"What...?"

"Yeah." James nodded. "Sirius was having doubts, Remus came to me for comfort and one thing led to another, then... It made me have second thoughts about being with your mother. There's a difference between loving someone, and being in love with someone, Harry. You'll always love someone, that can't change. But you can fall in and out of love with someone. If I hadn't realized the difference, I might not have married your mother. I love Remus, but what was between us was infatuation on both parts. We both realized it before we made anything more serious out of it. I married your mother, fathered three wonderful children. Sirius stopped being such a prat and, after muchmaking up for it, Remus took him back. We all look back on the situation fondly.

"Now, I told you all of this in an attempt to give you advice. I'm not going to forbid you from seeing Ron. I'm not going to send you to homophobic counseling, and I'm not going to march you straight into church and make you serve pentance. Your mother and I both understand that it's your life and your decisions, and we both think that Ron is a good boy and we know he'll be good to you if you two should make a life out of what you have. I am going to ask you, though, that you two take this slow. Don't let your hormones run away with you. Sex is not a good thing to build a relationship on."

Harry felt the rising heat of blush creeping up his back and neck. He never got over how embarrassing it was to talk about sex with either one of his parents. James was the lecturer, and Lily was the explain-every-organ-and-it's-function-and-what-happens-to-each-when-infected-with-sexually-transmitted-diseases parent. She even had pictures a doctor friend of her's had given her.

"I know it feels good," James was saying, causing Harry to wish he could disappear through the floor, "but is it enough to risk your friendship over? Think about that long and hard, Harry. What you and Ron have doesn't come along every day. Now, get up to bed."

Thankfully, Harry smiled at his dad and hurried for the stairs. He couldn't believe his luck; he had gotten off practically scott-free and managed to keep his temper. He managed to reach the bottommost step before his father called out to him.

"Harry?"

For a moment, his heart sank. He froze, one foot on the floor and the other on the step, his hand still on the banister. Had his father remembered something he had wanted to say? Some angry comment? Or worse... did he change his mind and want to forbid him from seeing Ron?

"Yes?"

"You're still grounded, son."

Though he should have been at least a little upset, Harry was still happy inside. He smiled back at his father again, then continued to his room. Joy rumbled through him; he could be with Ron and his parents approved. He flopped back onto his bed, a smile on his face. In his state of euphoria, he had completely forgotten that the next day, he would be sent to see some crackpot doctor to have his head examined.

Author's Response

emurez: Thanks!