Chapter 11: A Friendly Notion

After leaving the ward, Ron proceeded to the great hall for breakfast, he was starving. He paused outside the doors, standing out of view, and he could see that Harry, Seamus and Dean, were all sitting next to each other deep in conversation. They seemed to be laughing about something very funny. Ron could guess who the joke was about and automatically anger started to build up. He also saw that Hermione was sitting with Parvati, Lavender, Katie and Angelina. Since when were they friends?

His stomach gave a nasty grumble and he pressed his hand over it. He really needed something to eat before he passed out from lack of nutrition. He didn't want to be stared at though. He could guess that everyone knew about him being gay by now, and this only made him want to avoid entering more. His stomach grumbled again in protest, and he knew he couldn't avoid eating any longer. He took a deep breath and walked forward into the great hall.

Just as he presumed, every head turned his way. The hall was thrown into a deafening silence. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the amount of tension his mere presence bestowed on the place. He looked around for a place to sit and he saw that Neville was motioning him over, though to get to him, he had to pass Harry, Hermione and their gang of friends. He continued forward keeping his eyes forward, completely focusing on his destination. As he passed Hermione, Lavender glared up at him followed by the rest of her gang. Hermione tried to catch his eye, but he avoided her gaze and pushed on pass. Harry and his gang weren't as easy to ignore. Seamus turned around before he passed and started mimicking kissing faces toward him. As he passed, he heard the jeering remarks Fag and Queer, followed by muffled laughter. Ron balled his fist up in pent up fury an irritation. His eyes briefly closed as he exhaled deeply. It seemed like forever before he reached Neville, who scooted over to give him a place to sit. He stepped over the bench and sat. Instantly everyone entered into hushed conversations with each other and the silence was permeated not only with whispers but fierce glances his way.

Neville glimpsed over at him and saw that Ron looked weak. He had bags under his eyes that he presumed were from lack of sleep. He grabbed a bowl of sausage and eggs, and pushed them over to him. One of the bowls hit Ron's hands so he grabbed it subconsciously, piling its contents onto his plate. His ears were buzzing from all the hissing going on around him. He couldn't take it anymore. His hands started trembling and he dropped the bowl of eggs. He cursed himself under his breath. Neville pulled out his wand to clean up the mess, but Ron held out a hand to stop him. No matter how nice Neville was to him, Ron didn't want to be set on fire no matter how depressed he felt right now. He cleared it up and raised a sausage to his mouth to eat. There was laughter at this, and he realized the joke. He dropped the sausage from his hands and turned to the source of the laughter.

It was Harry, Seamus, and Dean, and they weren't trying to hide their laughter. He couldn't do this any longer. He dropped his fork on his plate and the sound it made, made Neville jump. Ron stood up and left the table. Neville dropped his food and followed him at a half run.

Laughter followed there departure as catcalls of "Ron is a fudge packer" rung through the air, directed by a smug Seamus and sung by an overdramatic Dean, and an ever –so- willing Harry.

Ron didn't stop walking until he reached the safety of the empty common room. Neville clambered through a few seconds later. He stopped in fear at the sight of Ron. Ron's eyes were blazing. He was out of breath, but he was still moving; pacing back and forth across the floor until he stopped. Neville looked around at what had stopped him.

It was Ron's stuff scattered carelessly on the common room floor. His possessions were broken. His broom, which he had gotten as a present from his mother for being made a prefect, was in ten pieces scattered throughout the room. All of his robes were ripped and all the family pictures from home had graffiti on them. Words like fudge packer, queer, and fag covered them. Ron stood there in shock, his body unmoving, he felt helpless, limp, and distraught. Neville shook his head in revulsion and crossed over to him and stood beside him. After a moment, he placed his hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron let it rest for a while, but then resentment got the better of him. He turned and pushed Neville to the floor. Neville fell back against the sofa where he laid in fetal position; hurt. Ron heaved in deep, forced breaths. His mind was spinning. He grabbed for the nearest photo with the word FAG written across the top. He leaned his head down and pressed his forehead to it, feeling its coolness. He flung it to the wall where is crashed and fell to the ground, the glass shattering into millions of pieces. He picked up another photo and pulled his arm back to throw it but was stopped by Neville who grabbed his hand from behind.

"STOP IT," he yelled. He pulled the photo from his hands and dropped it to the ground. Ron looked as if he wanted to hit Neville, but instead dropped to the floor onto his knees. He tried to fight back the tears, but they shed in streams down his face. Neville dropped down beside him and put an arm around him. Ron leaned his head on Neville's shoulder, and he squeezed his eyes close to stop his tears. Neville rubbed his arm to comfort him, and after a moment Ron's tears began to lessen. Ron raised his head and looked into Neville's eyes. He smirked.

"Thanks…" he said. Neville shook his head.

"It was nothing, I could see that you needed someone," added Neville. "They shouldn't have done what they did to you." Ron looked around toward his destroyed things. He shook his head in disgust and looked back to Neville.

"Are you okay?" asked Neville.

"Yeah, I'm all right," whispered Ron as he hung his head forward. Neville rested his head on the top of his, and reached his hand to rub the hairs on the back of Ron's neck. Ron closed his eyes. His anger was momentarily stopped by this kind show of affection. How could someone be so nice? He thought. He could feel Neville's warm breath on his face, it smelled peppermint. He smiled to himself. He leaned his head up slightly and looked into the bright brown eyes of Neville. Their faces were inches from each other. He leaned forward and brought his lips to Neville's. Neville exhaled and sat a little straighter as his hands fell down to his side. Ron leaned forward sending Neville back onto his elbows. He placed one hand on either side of him, his breathing quickened as he kissed Neville deeply, eagerly, forcefully. Neville placed one hand between them and pushed Ron back, breaking the kiss. Neville rubbed a hand over his mouth, feeling the heat there; a heat that was quickly fading. Ron waited, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Say anything, he thought; anything.

"I'm…I'm not gay," he said softly, he looked sorry.

Ron sat back. What? He thought. This couldn't be happening to him. But, Neville had kissed him, right?

"WHAT!" he yelled. Neville crawled back, and away from him. He looked frightened.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered.

Ron ran his hand threw his hair. What had just happened? He couldn't deal with this anymore. He had to get away. He stood up and made toward the door. Neville stood and pulled him around to face him.

"Don't go," he pleaded.

Ron snatched away. He saw that Neville was almost in tears. He felt sorry for him. He grabbed Neville's hands.

"I need to get away from here. I'm not angry with you…okay!" He squeezed his hands in earnest. He then turned and left the room.

Neville stood there in silence. He rubbed a finger across his lips and looked toward the door. Shaking his head, he walked toward the stairs and up to his dormitory.