Chapter thirteen: unlucky for some
Remus and Sirius were sitting on Harry's bed when Ron returned to their room. He knew exactly where his Harry was going when he headed upstairs and thought it best to let him calm down thoroughly. One thing was sure, Harry had been taking - or perhaps absorbing through exposure would be more accurate - glaring lessons from Snape.
"What happened? I heard people leaving?" Remus asked anxiously. He was holding Sirius' hand tightly, and Ron thought that there were faint tear tracks on the werewolf's face. He wondered what they had found out at the Dursley's, and if he would be told.
"Mr and Mrs Potter have met the Boy Who Lived," Ron grimaced and the Marauders sighed, "It wasn't pleasant. Mum's taking the Dursley's home and will probably memory charm them to keep Headquarters safe."
Both men nodded, understanding exactly what that meant. They'd met the Boy Who Lived in the Shrieking Shack, when he had come to the defence of the traitor Wormtail. Even though he was still young, that side of Harry was an elemental force that could not be resisted. As the years had progressed that part of their Cub had gotten stronger and more complex as Harry's experiences and magical ability became more varied. It was odd to think that the quiet, retiring teen housed such diverse personalities; Harry hated attention, the Boy Who Lived commanded it.
"Where is Harry now?" Sirius asked anxiously and Ron pointed at the ceiling wordlessly. He and Harry had yet to finish figuring that room out, and he didn't know what to call it. Upon reflection, today had been an impossibly busy day - he'd expelled himself voluntarily from school, taken on a Marauder in chess, watched his lover tell off his unexpectedly alive parents, and been thoroughly worried about hints that had been dropped about his lover's childhood. They hadn't even had dinner yet.
"In that refuge you two found," Sirius sighed, recalling Ron from his musings, "Well, as long as he can't come to any harm up there I suppose we should leave him be."
"I'll take some dinner up for us both tonight," Ron smiled, "Some blankets maybe. We'll see. Maybe some cleaning materials - its incredibly dusty up there."
"Ron, seeing as you're no longer a student at Hogwarts, but have received your OWLs, it would be allowable for you both to do magic in this house," Remus spoke up, "Provided you use the ability judiciously I don't see why you can't use a few cleaning spells. If it will make the area cleaner without Harry having to do it by hand…"
"I don't think I'll ever complain about a spot of teenager untidiness again," Sirius agreed in a low voice, "Don't make him clean up."
"I won't," Ron promised, startled to see the two men nearly in tears over the thought of Harry doing some dusting. His curiosity was well and truly piqued, but he knew he couldn't just come out and ask. Whatever the Dursley's had told the adults had been behind Harry's back. He would ask Harry to his face, it was the least he could do after the scene downstairs. He watched the two men opposite lean into each other, heads resting close, breathing slow and gentle.
Harry's godfather and adopted uncle left not long after, and Ron blushed a little when he saw they were heading for Sirius bedroom. Although he and Harry had been doing a lot of cuddling and had kissed each other - more as a joke than anything else, they were both still too self conscious to try kissing properly - they had not progressed to the deep level of physical affection that Sirius and Remus shared.
Ron wanted that, he was a teenager after all and had more hormones than blood at times, but was unsure how he would go about getting there with Harry. The way they cuddled felt so easy and natural, and Ron wanted sex to feel that way too. He knew what felt good - he was no stranger to his right hand after all - but he didn't know what Harry liked.
The redhead sighed and looked down at his uncooperative groin. It was hard to think seriously about this sort of thing when it was hard… Ron blushed, cast a privacy spell over the door and got himself comfortable. He'd deal with the problem at hand and then think about Harry. Or maybe he could do both at once…
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Ron had appeared with a tray of covered plates and Harry watched his friend wave his wand and clean all the dust from the room with astonishment. Ron had explained Remus' theory and confided that he'd already done a bit of magic to trial the idea out. From the blush his redhead wore Harry guessed it was a privacy spell of some sort. He was no stranger to needing the discretion of that kind of spell and kind of wished he'd been in the mood for it himself. He'd had time to calm down though, and Mrs Weasley's cooking was very welcome to his empty stomach. Harry conjured a pile of pillows and cushions for them to sit on and they'd eaten the meal ravenously - as only teenage boys could.
The object in the middle of the room revealed itself to be a huge telescope, which explained why the room housing it was a glass dome. They looked it over carefully when the food was gone, and Harry cast a few polishing spells to clear the smudges from the lens and barrel of the telescope. There was a padded chair and slanted table to hold star charts, designed to revolve with the large telescope and the teens spent some time using the instrument, locating familiar stars and even going so far as to cast a horoscope for each other in true Trelawney tradition.
Eventually they settled back onto the pillows and Harry asked Ron what was being said downstairs.
"Very little actually," Ron shrugged, "Mum and Sirius and Remus are sitting on one side of the table glaring into their teacups while your mum and dad sit on the other and glare into theirs. I didn't ask what the Dursley's told them - if you want to tell me you can but I don't mind if you don't - but I'm pretty sure that whatever it was won't get around."
"Good," Harry nodded, "That's the last thing I need right now."
He had no intention of going into the details of his childhood with Ron, and was disappointed that his current guardians and assorted parents knew at all. He'd come to the decision that he would just ignore the fact that they now had concrete proof of what the Dursley's had been up to and carry on as usual. That Ron was suppressing his curiosity was something that Harry really appreciated, and wanted to reward.
"Ron… I don't want to go into detail," he let the redhead pull him into a cuddle and settled close happily, "Can we leave it at this? The Dursley's weren't nice to me, but I don't see the point in…"
"Dwelling," Ron finished, "I guess I can understand. Doesn't mean I'm not curious though."
"When aren't you?" Harry chuckled gratefully and Ron tightened his grip on the brunette.
"You could distract me," from the slightly strangled delivery of that very suggestive line Harry knew the redhead was blushing furiously and a glance in the starlight confirmed that. Harry's heart beat a lot faster and he leaned in carefully, aiming for Ron's lips.
They soon discovered that they were both very curious when performing this kind of activity and hands were soon tracing contours and seeking to give pleasure and comfort. Although Ron had only this morning hinted that their relationship could go this way, in the back of their minds both teens knew that they'd been heading this way for quite some time. A fierce sort of joy took over Harry's mind and he gave himself up to the touch of his lover, eager to rest in the protection Ron was wordlessly offering.
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