Warnings: slight slash, nothing to worry about.

Chapter 18 - The Warm and Most Inviting House of Weasley

The only upside that Harry could find to working with Draco at the coffee shop was that, added to the bonus he recieved for being manager, Harry was able to finally stroll down to that car lot and buy his beautiful black convertable with the grey interior. Draco, for some reason, never accepted any of the tips, though he was the one who earned it and Harry continued to offer it. Sometimes, Draco made no sense whatsoever. And usually, those times were when he was covering up an ulterior motive. Harry couldn't outright confront him about this -- well, he could, but Remus had specifically asked him to behave himself, and he had told him that he would -- so he would just have to wait until Malfoy's plan began to reveal itself. Harry hated waiting.

But as much as he hated waiting, and Draco, and Riddle, and being crazy, he loved his new car even more. In fact, the car was in the top five of the things he loved, just under Ron and his family and his friends, and above Chloe. The car was a great deal easier on the eyes than his sister, anyway. And it didn't sass him or insult him or tattle on him. Why couldn't his mother and father have gotten the car instead of Chloe? Harry just knew that his parents had bought her from a band of ill-tempered carnies. It would explain her freakish nature and her funky smell. Because she did smell. Really bad.

So, as he drove away, behind the wheel of his new car, he smiled. For today, at least, things were all flowers and bubbles and showtunes. He was happy, he was driving down the road with the wind in his hair, and the best part was, if he saw that stupid Lord Voldemort, he'd just run his spooky ass over. Well... if he could keep from passing out first. Ah, it was too good a day to worry about his mental problems.

Now. He was the happiest he had been in quite a while, he had his own car and the freedom to go anywhere he wanted, until six when he had to clock in at work and spend another glorious -- sarcasm had started becoming more and more a part of his life lately -- night with Malfoy. Where would he go?

The answer to that was easy. So easy, in fact, that when he stopped carrying on the witty banter in his head to avoid taking out a postbox, he was already turning down the street. All the way down at the end, and a little away from all the other houses, he pulled up to the curve and parked. The large, worn, and lived-in Weasley house stood before him, a friendly and warm reminder of a place that was always a haven to him.

The Warm and Most Inviting House of Weasley was not, by far, the most stately house on the block, nor was it the neatest or the best-kept. It needed a new coat of paint, the lawn had not been mowed that week, the roof needed a few new tiles here and there, and the garden was a little over-grown. The numbers were peeling off the postbox, the little shed's door was falling off, and the path steps were cracked or missing. The inside was a little cluttered and could have used a few repairs. All in all, the house was the best thing Harry had ever seen in his life. It had been his second home since childhood, and he had never known a house more full of love and warmth, aside from his home and that of Remus and Sirius. He had always preferred the Weasley house, though. There was just something so very... cozy and lived-in about the house he found absolutely intoxicating.

Harry avoided trodding on the chickens running around the yard as he made his way to the front door. Inside, Mrs. Weasley was yelling at one of the children. As he approached, her words became clearer and clearer. It was the typical weekend agrument with the twins, who visited every weekend, about their joke shop products finding their way into the house when Mrs. Weasley had expressed her concerns, quite loudly, about them replacing her good spatula with one that broke wind when used. Harry smiled. Whatever the circumstances of the outside world, life seemed to march on as usual at the Burrow. It was comforting, really.

His knock at the door was greeted with more audible shouts from Mrs. Weasley as she jerked the door open, and then promptly being enveloped in a vice-like, rose-and-ginger scented hug. He couldn't help but smile as Mrs. Weasley nearly crushed his ribs. Molly Weasley had always be a second mother to him, ever since he was a scrawny little child with an unruly mop of hair and had reminded her of a little puppy. Mrs. Weasley was always affectionate towards him, but today was an instance where she she went overboard with it. He guessed it was on account of him being all crazy and stuff.

"Harry, dear," she cried, holding his face in her hands and looking closely at him. "How are you feeling? Oh, that's a silly question, isn't it. Sit down, dear, and we'll get some breakfast in you. How's your mother? Well, I take it? That's good. Sit here, yes just there and -- FRED! GEORGE! I SAID NO MORE!"

Mrs. Weasley scowled at her twins as they came in the door, holding up an eyeball that was trying to crawl away on little tentacle-looking legs. She looked as if she would have their heads. But the twins, long-used to such looks, just flashed her identical cheeky smiles before settling on either side of Harry.

"Sorry, mum," Fred said. "Guess that one crawled away from us. We'll just have it back, then, shall we?"

"No." She tossed the eyeball out the window. "You two... honestly..." She set about dishing out Harry a hearty serving of beef stew.

"Hey, Harry," George said, smiling at him. Harry smiled back. He hadn't seen the twins in a month or so, and it seemed like they just kept getting more and more attractive. "Heard about your seeing things and stuff. From Percy, of course."

"Must be terrible for you," Fred said.

"But, no worries. We gave him a good thumping."

Harry smiled at them again. "It's... well, it is horrible. I guess you get used to it."

"Yeah. Ickle Ronnikins is upstairs. He'll be down soon," said Fred. "Congratulations about that, by the way. You're aware he's a git? Not of the Percy variety, mind, but still."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, still smiling. "Part of his appeal."

"Tuck in, Harry. Mum'll just have more on your plate in a minute."

So Harry sat at the table in the Burrow and managed to eat three bowlfuls of Mrs. Weasley's soup. He had gotten used to this routine. She simply would not stop feeding him until he thought he might pop. It was a wonder he wasn't as big as a house with as much as he visited the Weasleys.

Ron took his sweet-ass time coming downstairs, leaving him at the hilarious mercies of Fred and George. They entertained him with controban while Mrs. Weasley away, told him a few new jokes, about their flat, of a girl George had been seeing, and George even engaged him in some light flirting despite the aforementioned girlfriend. Ginny passed through on her way off somewhere, pausing long enough to give him a hug. Finally, Ron came down, yelling at Ginny for taking one of his shirts. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Harry in sight, and his face broke out into a wide grin. Harry smiled back, listening to Mrs. Weasley yelling at the twins, who were doing their impression of Harry and Ron.

"Oh, Harry," Fred cried, ignoring his mother and gathering his twin/Harry into his arms. "It's so good to see you!"

"Oh, Ron," George said, throwing his arms around Fred/Ron's neck. "It's been too long!"

"I love when you bat those eyes of yours at me like that, Harry..."

"You mean like this, Ron?" George batted his eyes ridicliously.

"Oh yes, Harry!"

"Take me now, Ron! Take me now and --"

"ENOUGH!" roared Mrs. Weasley. The twins and Harry sniggered, but Ron sat down with flaming ears.

"Sod off, you two," he said when Mrs. Weasley was busy again. The twins made kissy noises in answer. Ron rolled his eyes, then looked to Harry, who was smiling at him. He sighed. "I thought when they moved out I'd be free of this rot..."

"You'll never be free of us, baby brother," Fred informed him as he put an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm beginning to realize." Ron looked down at his soup glumly, his voice the epitome of woe. Depressed as he sounded, Harry knew that Ron wouldn't trade those two brothers for anything. Percy, however, was another matter.

And at that moment, Percy strolled down the stairs. He seemed to be enjoying his day off (for Riddle was the first day into his week-long vacation in the country, and would sadly be back in time for Harry's next appointment.) and looked very comfortable in his khakis and t-shirt. He stopped in the doorway as his eyes lit on Harry. The whole room paused as the two stared at one another. Then Percy turned up his nose, raised himself up so very regally, and sat down at the table as far away from Harry as he could get. He looked down his nose at the bowl his mother sat before him, then to Ron while he picked up his spoon.

"I had thought my advice to you yesterday would have made some semblence of an impact on you, Ronald," Percy said.

Ron's ears began to burn in anger. "And I thought you'd take a hint when I told you to shove off."

"In light of recent events, one should --"

"God, Perc," George shouted, laughing. "You're such a queen!"

"I beg your pardon!"

"Listen," Fred said, leaning over the table toward Percy. "You leave Ron alone and stop with your Harry-bashing or so help me, I'll --"

"That's quite enough," Molly interrupted, stomping her foot. "I will not have that at my table!"

"Fine," Percy said. With a last look at Harry and carrying himself high, Percy left the kitchen to the twins bursting out into a loud and enthuastic "God Save the Queen." Irritated though he was with the stuffiest of the Weasley children, Harry laughed. The twins had a way about them that kept you from being upset. Molly even waited a few moments before quieting them.

"So," Ron said when he was finished with his soup and the twins had distracted themselves with something. "What brings you around?"

"Bought my car," Harry said, smiling. Ron's face split into a grin.

"Wicked! Let's see it, then!" He jumped up and grabbed his coat. "Mum! I'm going for a ride with Harry! I'll be back later!"

Before Harry could follow Ron out the door, he was again pulled into the arms of Mrs. Weasley. He hugged her back with a smile. She was such a comfort to him, this woman who was so much like a mother hen and had such a temper to pair with her loving disposition.

She pulled away, and Harry could see she was fighting tears. It was starting to look like a losing battle. "You're such a sweet boy, Harry, dear," she said, dabbing at her eyes. "Percy... I'm sorry... and..." She brushed a stray lock of hair from his face and smiled through her tears. Her eyes said everything she couldn't find the words to say. He hugged her again. How he loved his second mother, Mrs. Wesley. She let him go with a final smile. He left her to her dishes.

Ron was outside, enthusing over his car. Harry stood back with a smile. Little things could excite Ron. A new car, a passing grade in chemistry, when Harry did that thing he liked with his tongue and...

"Amazing," Ron said. "It could use a bit of work, that's obvious, but you've got a fine little car here, mate. Great year, good deal for the miles on it."

"Want to see how it rides?"

Ron smiled at thim, that lop-sided, goofy grin Harry thought was so cute. Sliding across the hood to the passenger side in great Bo Duke fashion, Ron hopped in. Harry slid behind the wheel, started the car, and then they were off.

They cruised around for awhile, stopping for some fast food. It was a warm day; perfect for cruising with the top down. Finally, they parked in a secluded area on top of a hill, put up the top, and climbed into the backseat to watch the sunset. It was specatcular. Snuggled in Ron's arms and listening to his steady heartbeat, Harry was in awe of the beauty of it all.

"What was Percy talking about," Harry asked, breaking the spell the sun set had cast over the car.

"When?"

"That whole 'in light of recent events' rot. What happened?"

"Nothing." Harry could tell he was lying. He turned his head and looked up, deep into those blue eyes, as determined as he could. "Blimey, Harry, don't look at me like that... Bloody harsh... I was... I was elected into the student council, all right? Mum got the letter in the post two days ago. I feel like such a git. Like one of Hermione's lot, you know? But just not as smart."

Harry threw his arms around Ron, hugging him tight. "Ron! This is great! Your parents have got to be so proud."

"Yeah," said Ron, trying not to smile. "They gave me some money to put towards a car of my own."

Harry smiled at his boyfriend. He knew how much this meant to Ron. Ron, who was always just an extra in every scene, so to speak. Now, he was going to be thrust toward the front, as far as school was concerned, and Harry knew he was estatic inside about it. Harry leaned foward in his excitement for Ron, and planted his lips firmly against the other's.

When he pulled back, Ron was smiling at him. There was no mistaking that smile, or what it meant.

"What," Harry asked, smiling back.

"I think that maybe we should break this car in. Great big welcome, make it your's offically, that kind of deal."

Harry slid into Ron's lap. "Why, Mr. Weasley. That's a good idea. I wish I had thought of it myself."

"Well," Ron said, with a proud smile. "I am the one on the student council."

"Ah yes." Harry rocked his hips against Ron, producing a sensual little moan. "Then this should be congratulatory for you, also. You being such a good boy and all that."

Ron chuckled, smiling, very happy with himself. Harry was glad his lover had gotten elected. It was just the sort of thing that Ron needed, to push him out of the wings and onto the stage. It simply wasn't good for a person to be second to everyone in their lives. Harry leaned down and licked at Ron's bottom lip. He felt, more than heard, Ron groan in approval. Urged on, Harry took the little rose-petal pink lip into his mouth to roll it between his teeth. Ron was quickly becoming a hot and bothered squirming mess underneath him. He took Ron's face between his hands and slid his tongue into his sweet mouth.

His kisses were slow and exploring, as if he was kissing Ron for the first time. And truly, it was better than the first time he had kissed Ron. First kisses, though sweet and mostly memorable (and sometimes accompinied by halatosis, which made it memorable, but by a long shot not sweet), always have an awkward edge to them. One can never know what to expect when kissing someone else for the first time, which generally does add a sense of excitement to the whole lot. But this, Harry preferred. Now he knew exactly what Ron liked, how he liked it, and he was driving Ron mad with soft brushes of tongue against lips and teeth, fleeting caresses tongue against tongue, as if they were playing hide and seek.

He shivered when Ron clutched his hips and moaned when he ground up against him. His back arched as Ron did it again. There was something so... naughty about doing it in the back of his car that made Harry moan all the louder. In the backseat of his car, with the windows fogged up and the stereo playing some song so soft Harry could barely hear it, he felt like he was stuck in a whacked-out version of that famous scene from "Titanic." He almost laughed when he had the urge to smudge his hand all over one of the windows. He did giggle, though, when he pictured himself in a dress and wig, laying on a door in the middle of the ocean, crying to Ron to never let go.

"What?"

"Nothing, Ron. Nothing." Sometimes, Harry really worried about himself.

Ron looked at him a moment or two, maybe worrying about Harry too, then perhaps brushed it off as him hitting a tickle spot and moved to kissing his neck. As Ron found that one spot that was the most sensitive on his neck, Harry tossed his head back and to the side, and moaned, bucking against Ron's stomach. Two days without feeling Ron in him had been too long for Harry. It made him anxious and hasty. In his haste, he tried pulling Ron's pants down while still in his lap.

"Here," Ron said, starting to lift his hips up. "Sit up a bit. We'll be able to get at 'em better."

Harry did as Ron instructed. But, he sat up a little too far. His head cracked on one of the little bars the stretched canvas of the top was on. He cried out and swore, then laughed. For some reason, there was something funny about the whole thing. Ron brought his head back down. "Baby, are you okay!"

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Here, let me lie down."

Ron tried to manuver him down into the seat. Harry groped behind him for the console to help support him. The only thing they managed was dropping Harry in the floor when Harry's hands slipped from the console and he slipped out of Ron's hands. Harry looked up at Ron's shocked and apologetic face and laughed all the harder than he had been.

"God, Harry, are you okay?"

"We're a little clutzy today, aren't we?"

With a helping hand from Ron, Harry got back into the seat and laid down on his back. Ron settled between his legs, and with a smile, he began kissing Harry again. They ground against each other, and Harry finally managed to get Ron's pants down. His hands were moving down to the boxers when Ron again found that place on his neck and began sucking on it.

Then, out of nowhere, a cold feeling blossomed in his stomach. It spread through his body, to the very tips of his toes and fingers, and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The warmth that Ron inspired in him had vanished completely. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew what was happening. But he opened his eyes anyway... and then started yelling.

There was Voldemort, staring into the car with that sick smile, his face almost pressed against the glass. Red eyes burned deep into him as he yelled and clutched at Ron. High-pitched laughter filled his ears, but it was as if Ron didn't hear it at all. He was holding Harry tight, yelling words Harry couldn't hear, looking so lost and confused and helpless. That pale face contorted into an evil expression and Harry could see the wand pointing at the glass.

"NOO!"

When Harry was aware of himself next, the dark was just starting to fade away. He was so damn cold, and he knew he had to be shaking. His vision returned and Ron was the first thing that he saw. His face was floating above Harry's, full of concern and that helpless look he got when those episodes happened. He couldn't feel anything even though he knew Ron was holding him tight. As soon as he got the feeling in his arms back, he wrapped his arms around Ron.

"Harry? Was it...?"

"Yeah."

They stayed like that for a moment, in the back of Harry's car with Ron laying on top of him and Harry clutching to Ron as if he was his life line. Harry wasn't so sure at that moment if Ron wasn't the only thing keeping him alive. He began to calm down. The shaking stopped. That familiar feeling of having the ground put back beneath his feet came to Harry.

"Harry..." Harry made a noise low in his throat to let Ron know he had heard him. "I know we've already talked about this... but..." He sighed, as if gathering all his nerve to say what he said next. Looking back, Harry would have to hand it to him for actually being able to say it. "Hon. Whatever it takes, pills or treatments or whatever... I think you should try it. This is getting out of control."

"What," Harry said, pushing him back to look at him. "Upset because you couldn't get your rocks off? Mad because I went all mental and you couldn't get a good fuck in?"

"Harry, stop talking to me like that. You know it isn't true."

"Ron, I expected you to understand! You, of all people, I didn't think would turn against me."

"I'm not turning against you, I --"

"Whatever, Ron. Have it your way, just like everyone else. I'm crazy, I need pills, I need to be in a padded room." His phone started beeping. The alarm he had set to remind him that he was late for work was going off. "I've got to get to work. I'll take you home."

Harry climbed out of the car. Ron moved after him, he was talking but Harry didn't hear his words. He slammed the door on Ron's protests. It absolutely made him sick. The one person who helped him most through the whole ordeal was now the one pushing the hardest for him to get onto medication. Ron had assured him on so many occasions that he didn't think Harry was a lunatic. And now, after months of it, he was trying to get Harry to do something about it. It just made him sick.

As soon as Ron got settled into the front seat, Harry sped off to the Burrow. Ron tried to get his opinion heard a few more times before he finally got the hint that Harry was blocking him out. The car ride was silent after that.

Ron left the car in a huff when they reached the Burrow. Harry didn't even wait around to see him to the door. Ronald Weasley could choke and be eaten by rabid rhodendron bushes for all he cared. He still had to deal with Malfoy at work.

Author's Response:

emurez: Eh, fanfiction has some stupid rules sometimes. If I hadn't been writing for them for years, I'd just stop. But it grows on you after awhile. Maybe they'll get over it or something. Who knows. And yes, yes he is going insane. Poor Harry... -snarfle-

Marauder Number 5: Yeah, Draco's all weird and stuff. But he's so delectable! Loves me some Draco. Let's just hope Harry won't go postal, huh? That'd be really bad. Flogging Molly is very addictive. They're an awesome band with great songs, and a cute gituarist. A band isn't complete without a cute gituarist. Heeheehee, all right, I'll let you know if they do that. Sorry updates aren't more frequent here. I still love you guys! Promise!