As the summer went on, Harry found much relief from Ron. And not just sexually. He found that the more he focused on Ron and less on his memories and emotions, he was much more at ease. Every day he spent with him he could tuck away new pieces of information. More opportunities to make Ron his. Fully his. The only person Ron would even see or hear. The good thing about Ron, Harry realized very early on, was that he made it remarkably easy for Harry to do. Ron like praise, and Harry gave it to him whenever he saw opportunity. Harry laid with him until he fell asleep almost every night now. Harry kissed him more, especially during the day when they could sneak away, Ron loved kissing, and always gave a small, satisfied sigh every time Harry's mouth found his.

Every single thing that he knew Ron was secretly begging for, Harry gave him. Ready to take away if necessary.

"Harry," Ron whispered one night as they laid under the covers.

Harry pulled him close and rested his chin on Ron's shoulder. "Yeah?" he said curiously.

"Do you…really…love me?" Ron asked quietly.

"Of course I do," Harry responded immediately, his brain shuffling, "I probably always have. I just didn't know it, yet."

"Oh," Ron breathed.

"Why?" Harry asked, resting his head back on the pillow.

"I dunno, I was just curious, I guess."

"Did you think I was lying?" Harry asked, his tone was slightly firm.

Ron rolled over to face him.

"No," he said, confused, "I just wanted to ask, that's all."

Harry propped himself up on one elbow and stared at him.

"I would never lie to you, Ron," he said viciously, "Were you lying to me? When you said it back?"

"No," Ron said, quickly propping himself up, "No I wasn't. It's not like that, alright? I was just thinking and…and I wanted to know." His voice got quieter as he spoke.

Harry just looked at him, watching his eyes grow more and more anxious.

"Alright," he said finally, climbing out of the be. He started to grab his clothes, listening as Ron sat up in the bed.

"Are you upset?"

"No," Harry replied, getting into his pajamas, "I'm just tired, going to go to bed."

"Oh…" Ron said, watching as Harry laid down in his cot, "Okay."

Harry turned to face the window, away from Ron, then closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.

The next day started easily for Harry. After dressing and leaving the room without glancing at Ron, he went down to breakfast, greeting all the Weasley's warmly. Hermione was to arrive the following Monday. He started chatting with Fred and George about his soon to be arriving OWL results. When Ron arrived a few minutes later, Harry pulled him into the conversation. He could see the confusion in Ron's eyes.

After breakfast, Harry, Ron and the twins were sent outside to do yard work. About fifteen minutes in to weeding around the vegetable garden, Harry saw Ron heading for the shed. Harry glanced around but did not spot where the twins were. He quickly headed for the shed as well. Before Ron could open the doors Harry grabbed him and pulled him to the side where they would be hidden from the windows of the house. Before Ron could say anything, Harry kissed him deeply, enjoying the scent of dirt, sweat, and hot summer air, but remaining focused. Ron was quick to return the kiss but seemed hesitant about whether or not to touch Harry.

"Hi," Harry said breathlessly when he finally pulled away at the sound of the twins in the far distance.

"Hi," Ron replied with a nervous laugh, "I…um…I thought you were mad at me."

"What? Of course not," Harry said smiling at him, "I thought you were upset. I wanted to give you space." He kissed Ron gently, lingering for a moment. "Are you still upset?"

"No," Ron replied, "I'm not upset. I just…" He trailed off when Harry kissed him again. "So everything is okay?" he asked, smiling hopefully.

"Of course, love," Harry said with a laugh, "I promise." He kissed Ron again and Ron made a small 'mm' sound of happiness. "What?" Harry asked as he pulled away, Fred and George's voices were getting closer, but they were still a distance away.

"I just…like it when you call me that," Ron said quickly, turning red and dropping his gaze.

"Good," Harry said quietly, he got close to Ron's ear, "Because you are my love." He dropped his voice to a whisper, "Besides at night when you're my good boy." He could feel Ron squirm slightly and chuckled. Harry took a few steps back. "Don't get too worked up," he said in a teasing voice, still backing away, "Your brothers are coming."

Several hours later Harry was standing by his cot in Ron's room, drying his hair with a towel, glad to be clean again after the yard work. He heard the door open and shut and looked over, he smiled when he saw Ron standing there with nothing but a towel around his waist. Harry eyed the bruises for a moment before lifting his gaze up to Ron's face, which quickly flushed. Harry was taken by surprise when it was Ron who crossed the room first and grabbed Harry, pulling him into a frenzied kiss, which Harry quickly calculated as somewhat desperate. Desperate to really know Harry was not angry.

"Eager?" Harry joked in a hushed voice, without responding Ron moved from Harry's mouth to his neck, making Harry's stomach flip. "Shit," Harry whispered without meaning to. His body was quickly growing hot in reaction to Ron's motions. He let himself give in to it for a couple minutes, Ron's hands sliding over his chest, sides, and back. Finally Harry grabbed Ron's wrists and stopped him, then kissed him as he pushed Ron backwards towards the bed, yanking the towel off his waist. Harry easily pushed him into the bed, stars exploding in his mind as their erections brushed together briefly. Harry quickly found a fluid motion of grinding his lower body with Ron's as they continued to kiss fervently, tongues dancing, hands running over each other's faces and necks. A creak on the stairs caused them to pull apart, panting heavily, then a door shut. They both relaxed, laughing softly.

"Silencing charm?" Harry asked.

Ron paused. Then he smiled in a sly sort of way.

"It's more fun when I have to be quiet," he said. It would have been a bolder statement had he not been blushing, but Harry had still been caught off guard by it.

Yearning to take back control, Harry rolled off of Ron so he was laying next to him, and pulled Ron's face toward his.

"You're perfect," he whispered, and saw Ron's eyes get that familiar dazed sort of glimmer. Harry lowered one hand, still using the other to keep Ron's face close to his, and wrapped his fingers around Ron's cock, slowly starting to stroke it. He smiled viciously when he heard Ron gasp. "You are really, really so perfect to me," Harry murmured, chuckling as he felt Ron start rocking his hips with Harry's stroking, "And you're all mine. Do you like being mine?"

"Yes," Ron whispered, his voice quivering through ragged breaths.

"I can see that," Harry murmured as he swirled a thumb around Ron's leaking head, eliciting a low moan, "You are eager." He continued to work his hand up and down, keeping Ron's face close to his and listening to his quiet moans. "What are you so excited about, hmm? Are you just ready for me to take you? Ready to feel me inside you?"

Ron quickly buried his face between Harry's neck and shoulder and grasped onto Harry's back, digging his fingers deep as he muffled a loud moan. Harry chuckled lightly and let Ron catch his breath. Ron was always quick to cum the moment Harry opened his mouth and started talking. He often wondered if he could actually get Ron off just by his words, not even touching him. Harry reached over to the nightstand where the towel had landed earlier, and wiped his hand off as Ron laid back down, still breathing heavily.

Harry smiled at Ron as he straddled his waist.

"You're cute when you cum," he said, running his hands along Ron's bruised sides, making him flinch.

Ron blushed and laughed nervously. "Is that a compliment?" he asked, instinctively raising his hips off the bed when he felt Harry's throbbing cock rubbing along his backside.

So easy, a tinkling voice in Harry's head said.

"Good boy," Harry couldn't help murmuring, he smirked when he saw Ron close his eyes and heard him swear sharply under his breath, "And yes, it was a compliment." He rubbed the slick head of his cock against Ron's tight entrance, and watched him squirm. "So ready this time," Harry said, "You want it?"

Ron's eyes flicked open and their gazes locked for a moment. Harry felt a strange sensation run through him that, amidst all the anger and grief, and need for control, and he could not identify it. He quickly brushed it away.

"Yes," Ron whispered breathlessly, drawing Harry back in, "I want it."

Harry easily slid his entire length in in one swift movement, basking in the gasp that quickly turned into a moan from the red head beneath him. Harry groaned quietly at the familiar heat and clenching and refrained from listening to his body telling him to increase his pace. Instead he slowly rocked back until he was almost all the way out and as he slowly started to push back in he looked down at Ron, who was already panting heavily, trying to rock his hips, but Harry gripped him tightly so he couldn't move the way he clearly wanted to. A smile whine worked it's way out of Ron's mouth that made Harry chuckle.

"What's wrong?" He asked in a teasing tone, slowly pulling back again, "You don't like it slow anymore?" He started pushing back in again.

Ron shook his head, body quivering underneath Harry's grip. Harry leaned down, keeping his thrusting at a frustratingly slow pace. He kissed Ron on the cheek and put his mouth next to his ear.

"Whore," he whispered gruffly, and smirked when he heard Ron whine again, "Are you a whore for everyone? Or just me?"

"Just you," Ron murmured with a small moan as Harry started to speed up.

"Good boy," Harry responded, leaning back up, "Now you remember that. You're mine." He gave a particularly hard thrust to punctuate his statement and watched Ron turn his face into the pillow and muffle a moan.

Harry easily found a steady pace, drilling hard and deep into Ron, enjoying the high as the relief of his angers and frustrations flooded over him. Every gasp and moan he elicited from Ron, he savored. He looked down at Ron, who was looking up at him. When they locked eyes Ron smiled at him as he bit his lip to stay quiet. Harry swore sharply under his breath as his whole body reacted to this smile. He took a deep breath to try and focus on not cumming too soon. Harry slid his hands from Ron's hips, to his waist, and up his chest. Leaving one hand on his chest, his other rose to Ron's throat. His ran his thumb under Ron's chin for a moment, then firmly grasped. Ron flinched so violently that Harry stopped.

"Trust me," Harry whispered, raising the hand from Ron's throat to the side of his face, he was genuinely startled to see how fearful Ron looked.

"I…I can't," Ron whispered, appearing frozen now.

"You can't trust me?" Harry asked quietly, started to rock his hips again.

"I…do…" Ron stammered, trying to get words out through the pleasure he was feeling, "But…not that…"

"I won't hurt you," Harry whispered gently, trailing his hand back to Ron's throat, "I promise. It will feel good. Just trust me."

Ron did not say anything, but looked at Harry apprehensively. Harry went back to a steady pace of thrusting as he wrapped his fingers around Ron's throat. Ron flinched again.

"Harry," he sputtered, "I…I really can't…"

Harry barely heard him as he continued to drive himself into Ron, keeping his grip.

"Please." Ron's voice sounded miles away. "Harry…stop…" his words came out in choked panic.

Every strangled noise Harry heard seemed to tell him to keep going. He only thrust harder, body seeking nothing but control, relief, orgasm. He could feel a sharp pain on his arm but he ignored it. When he finally released, with an explosion of stars blurring his vision, he sat back heavily, trying to catch his breath. He felt movement next to him, and the mattress rose when a significant amount of weight left it. When his blurred vision finally focused, Harry looked behind him and was shocked to find Ron, fully dressed, leaving the room, emitting raspy breaths erratically.

Confused, but tired, Harry rose and started to pull on his own pajamas, then paused when he went to put on his shirt. He examined his right forearm. It was covered in scratches, and red finger marks wrapped around his wrist, threatening to turn into bruises.

I really can't, a voice echoed in his mind.

Harry dropped his arm, a cold feeling washing over him.

Stop.

"Shit!" Harry exclaimed angrily, throwing his shirt on the floor with excessive force. "Shit. Fuck."

Harry paced uncomfortably, running his hands through his hair. He had gone too far. And he had not planned on it. He could lose everything. He could lose Ron for this, he knew it. And he needed a new plan now. Harry took a few steadying breaths, trying to gather a few facts as he looked around the room. As he felt something formulate in his mind, he began to feel calmer. He quickly moved over to Ron's desk, found a spare piece of parchment and a quill, and scribbled down a few words. He then went to his trunk, where he systematically began to make sure everything was still packed neatly aside from clothes he had worn. When he spotted his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, he smiled, and placed it on top, tucking the parchment in the middle of it. He shut his trunk, pulled on a new pajama shirt, one with long sleeves, and then left the room.

He was almost sure that Ron had probably headed for the bathroom, and was not pleased to see that Fred and George were standing in the hallway, whispering to each other.

"What's up?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You tell us," Fred said, making Harry's heart pound, "We were coming up from the kitchen and Ron ran past us, hysterical."

"Tried to ask him what was wrong," George added, "He just shoved past us. Locked himself in the bathroom."

"We were just going to unlock it but…" Fred trailed off, "Seemed serious."

"I'll check it out," Harry said, pulling his sleeve down over his arm and walking past them down the hall to the bathroom.

He could hear Ron on the other side, sucking in air in shuddering gasps. Harry swallowed heavily.

Stop. The terrified, choked voice echoed in his mind again.

Harry knocked on the door softly. The panicked gasps stopped for a moment, then continued.

"Ron," Harry said, "It's me. Will you…could you please open the door?"

Harry felt very aware that the twins eyes were still on him. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the door unlock. Harry quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Ron was sitting on the edge of the tub, staring at the floor, still gasping. Harry quickly knelt in front of him and reached out to grab his hands but Ron jerked them away.

"Please talk to me," Harry said quietly, "Please."

Ron looked up slowly. His eyes were rimmed red, and full of tears. And Harry filled with dread and panic when he saw a very distinguishable red mark on his throat where his hand had been, already turning blue and purple in some spots.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, reaching for his hands again, this time Ron let him grab them. He was shaking. "I'm so sorry, Ron, you have to believe me."

Ron didn't say anything, nor was he looking at Harry, but at a point behind his head.

"Please look at me," Harry begged him, feeling relieved when Ron finally looked at him, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Ron nodded faintly, but still didn't say anything. Harry gripped his hands tighter.

"Will you come back up to the room with me?" He asked carefully, "Please?"

Ron nodded again, and stood with Harry. Harry kept a hold of one of Ron's hands and carefully opened the bathroom door, peering up and down the hallway to make sure they were alone. It appeared Fred and George had gone back to their room. Ron walked with Harry very slowly, almost hesitantly, his hands still trembling. Harry kept a hold of him, worried he might run off. Once in the bedroom Harry still did not let him go but pulled him close and took his other hand.

"I'm so sorry," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to scare you or…or hurt you. I really didn't, you have to believe me."

Ron muttered something under his breath, his voice raspy, but he did not look at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked softly.

"I told you to stop," Ron repeated, a little bit louder, still not looking at him. Ron did not say it accusingly, or forcefully. He did not even sound scared. He said it as a simple statement. Recalling a fact.

"I know," Harry told him, "I know and I should have. I just…" He dropped Ron's hands with a sigh, and saw Ron's head raise slightly. Harry sat on the bed and dropped his face into his hands, waited a moment, then looked up, his palms raised. "I got so lost in you, Ron. I…wasn't thinking straight." Each word chosen carefully, every pause strategically placed.

And it was working. Ron was looking at him now, eyes still red but a lack of tears.

"I never meant to scare you," Harry continued, "I love you, I would never do something to hurt you. Not on purpose." He could see Ron starting to relax. "You believe me, right?"

"Of course I do," Ron finally said, "It's…" He trailed off, and Harry grew anxious, "It's okay. It wasn't you." Harry exhaled on the inside.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, he scooted over and Ron took the spot next to him. Harry grabbed his hand, angling his body toward Ron.

"You know…in the Department of Mysteries…when that brain thing attacked me…" Ron spoke carefully, like he'd never talked about this before, "It-it started to choke me. It almost killed me."

Harry had completely forgotten. He squeezed Ron's hand tightly, Ron had started trembling again.

"But when it was choking me I started getting these flashes," Ron continued heavily, "Like…someone else's memories. People screaming, getting attacked…people dying. Like that brain…thing…was forcing them into me. Even though I was hexed I…I saw them all so clearly." He dropped his gaze again.

"Ron…" Harry whispered, dropping most of his guard for the moment, all his meticulous planning, "You never told any of us that."

"I still see them," Ron said, "I hear all the screaming. Those people dying. At night when I'm sleeping…I see them."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, with real feeling, "So when I…did that…it brought it all back."

Ron nodded once. Harry pulled him into a hug. A hug that brought a new kind of peace to Harry, and he was surprised. Following a different instinct that he had not felt in some time, he held Ron tighter, resting his chin on Ron's shoulder as Ron buried his face between Harry's neck and shoulder, much like he had earlier for different reasons, and took several deep breaths, his fingers periodically squeezed Harry's back, as though he was trying not to cry.

"You'll be okay," Harry whispered, "You're going to be okay." He knew Ron was upset, but he took comfort in the way Ron was clutching him. Like he was something safe. Ron relaxed at Harry's words but still held him.

Harry let Ron hold him for some time. His mind was reeling. He had actually hurt him. Terrified him, even. But technically it hadn't even been his fault. Annoyingly for him, he kept hearing the echoing "stop" reverberate in his mind. But he kept pushing that away. Ron had forgiven him. He had no guilt to hang on to.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts with a whisper.

"I love you, Harry." Small, shaking.

"I love you, too," Harry replied softly, "Never forget that, okay?"

"Okay," Ron responded. He pulled away from Harry and Harry kissed him softly, Ron gave him a small smile. Harry smiled back but it quickly fell when he looked at Ron's neck. Most of the marks were still red, but the spot where his palm had been was blue and purple. Harry assumed the rest of the red marks, where his fingers had squeezed, would be just as blue and purple the next morning. And his shirt barely covered it.

Ron quickly drew a hand to his throat, covering the bruises.

"Don't worry about it," he said quickly.

"People will see," Harry replied, "And Fred and George, they saw you."

"They didn't see it," Ron told him, "I know they didn't. Fred would have broken down the door."

Harry sighed heavily. He hadn't planned on any of this, and felt irritatingly lost at the moment.

"We'll figure it out tomorrow," Ron said hopefully, reaching out to touch Harry's leg.

Harry's mind began whirring again. Then he smiled gently at Ron.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh, "We'll figure it out tomorrow. Lay down with me." He began to lay down, and Ron went with him. Harry pulled the covers over them and Ron doused the lamp. In the dark, Harry could practically hear Ron's heart pounding heavily. They faced each other, hands clinging under the blanket. Harry scooted closer and placed a soft kiss on Ron's lips. "Do you still love me?" He whispered.

"Of course," Ron replied automatically. Harry noticed, however, his eyes did not have that certain gleam they got when Ron was somewhat entranced by Harry, nor did they have the eagerness.

Harry pulled him closer, wrapping one arm around to his back, and kissed him again, more deeply this time. "You're perfect," he murmured between kisses, "You really are. You've just…been right in front of me…this whole time." He could feel Ron's body pushing closer. "And I need you to stay with me. No matter what happens." He let Ron's hands begin to roam over his body. "You're the only one I love. And the only one I can trust."

Harry knew Ron was eating up his words despite the lack of a vocal response. The more praise Harry spoke, the more promises and proclamations of love, the more Ron kissed him with apparent need and desire, hands roaming over Harry's body. And when his hands went right to Harry's waistband, Harry stopped him.

"We don't have to," Harry whispered, "Let's give you some time, okay?"

"I don't need time," Ron replied, "Really."

"Okay, love," Harry said, holding his hands now, "But…why don't you just let me hold you, okay? I'll sleep here with you."

Ron pulled away to look at him. Harry now saw the gleam he had been waiting for.

"Really?" Ron asked in a timid voice.

"Really," Harry replied, smiling. They kissed once more before Ron turned over and Harry pulled him close, and began running his hand up and down Ron's arm.

"I'll protect you," Harry murmured, "No nightmares."