Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, and I sadly don't own the song either.

This is a mock-song-fic, using a song my friend made me listen to a few weeks ago.

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January 13th

Hermione loved Ron, and Ron loved Hermione. The problem was, Ron loved Hermione as a sister or a friend, and Hermione loved him as more than that.

Harry loved Ron, and Ron loved Harry. The problem was that Harry loved Ron like a brother, and Ron love Harry, as, well, more than that.

I'm the only gay Eskimo
I'm the only one I know
I'm the only gay Eskimo
In my tribe

Every day Ron watched Harry do his homework, hoping that the studious boy-who-lived would ask him a question in that cute little confused voice. Ron loved that voice. It was the voice that asked such adorable things as "Ron, why are you staring at me?"

Merlin, how Ron loved this boy.

I go out seal hunting with my best friend Tarka
But all want to do is get into his parka

Homework time progressed in silence, until Harry broke the silence.

"Damn, my ink ran out. Ron, can I dip my quill in your well?"

Ron meant to say "sure", but what came out was,

"You can put your quill in my inkwell any time you want Harry." No later had these words escaped him lips, then a hand shot up over Ron's mouth. He stared in wide-eyed horror at Harry, who was, coincidentally, staring wide-eyed at him.

Unable to think strait, Ron tried to cover up his faux pas.

"Um, Harry, what I meant was I want your quill… or, my ink is… I FUCKIN' LOVE YOU!


I'm the only gay Eskimo
In my tribe

Ron ran through the hallway, willing himself to believe that he had not just spilt his secret to the unobtainable object of his affection. Harry hadn't even replied, but stared dumbly, contemplating the startling revelation. Ron didn't need him to say a word. His silence spoke volumes.

Now, running aimlessly, Ron felt all his regret and fear coming up into his throat.

Wait. That was dinner. He threw up in the corner of the hall before realizing where he was. He was right in front of the Room of Requirement.

'All I need right now is something to make the pain go away.' Ron thought, pacing back and forth.


Well me and Nukflukchukbuk
We both like blubber
But me I've got this crazy fetish for rubber

Now the Room of Requirement could have been merciful and given Ron some Advil, or some sleeping medicine. Even Firewhiskey wouldn't be that bad.

But no, the Room just had to give him a revolver. Even worse, it was a loaded revolver.

The gun sat on a crudely made wooden table illuminated by a single shaft of tinted yellow light.

Ron approached the gun with caution.

'Something to take the pain away.' He mused silently to himself. Ron slowly picked up the gun, and ran his and over it. The steel was cold and polished, and he could see his own reflection. He put his hand on the trigger, feeling the power to sustain or end life running through his fingers.

A low whir was heard, meaning the Room was making an adjustment. Another shaft of light came from the nonexistent ceiling to reveal a row of beer bottles at the end of the room. Ron held up the gun, and shot t the first bottle.

The bullet missed, and was assumed by Ron to have been absorbed into the wall; owing to the fact that now sound was heard. Ron shot at the same bottle again, this time hitting the very base and shattering the bottle into a million pieces of glass.

The bottled disappeared one by one, and the gun next dissolved in Ron's hand. Ron clenched his fist in an attempt to grab the disappearing weapon, but it was no use. A slight breeze (the Room had a flair for dramatic effect) reminded Ron that he was all alone.

I'm the only gay Eskimo
In my tribe

Sensing that there was nothing else to be done there, Ron left the Rom of Requirement. As soon as he got into the hall, he began to run. He didn't know why, but his legs took him to the astronomy tower.

Ron froze as he stepped onto the observation roof and not only physically froze either (it was the middle of winter) but he metaphorically froze, metaphorically in his tracks.

He wasn't alone.

"Sorry Ron, uh, I was just leaving." Harry said awkwardly. Ron was too dumbfounded to even speak, but he happened to notice the redness of Harry's eyes, like he had been crying.

I make a wish on the Northern Lights
That I can find a decent pair of whaleskin tights

I'm the only gay Eskimo
In my tribe

Ron walked over to the place where Harry had been standing, right at the edge of the tower. There was a low stone wall guarding the unfortunate sleepwalker from the hundred foot drop.

Ron peered over the edge. Impulsively, he stood on top of the wall and spread his arms out, feeling the full force of the wind. The wind lashed his face and made the fresh tears sting more.

And the seals they sing now...
seal noises

These cold winter nights
Are taking their toll
I even get excited when I see the North Pole
See the North Pole...

In a final resigning moment, Ron let his legs go limp, and let his body fall into the abyss below.

I'm the only gay Eskimo
Only gay Eskimo
I'm the only one I know
The only one I know-oh-oh-oh
I'm the only gay Eskimo
In my tribe

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I love that song so much. Its called "The Only Gay Eskimo" and my friend does a really good impression of the people singing it.

When I said I gave up pitching my friend's story, I lied. Read "I Will be Chained" by NeverendingDarkness.

As always, please review.