"I love you, Harry."

It was the best thing to wake up to, Harry had decided. Ron's warm body next go his, eager to wake up and immediately turn around to hold on to Harry, murmuring sweet words to him. Harry thrived on it, especially the next morning. His anxious flutters were not as strong as they had been, so he allowed himself to just relax, and enjoy Ron resting on his chest as they both tried to gain some energy for the day. Their night had been a long one. Both were practically insatiable after enjoying their private win, and after finally falling to the sheets in a sweaty heap, desperately trying to catch their breath and laughing quietly, the sun was already threatening to rise.

"I love you, too," Harry murmured, trailing a finger up Ron's spine and chuckling when Ron shivered. "You made me really happy last night."

"A couple times, I think."

Harry couldn't help laughing, so did Ron. Harry was surprised at how freeing it was to be with Ron this way. Everything about Ron was so easy. And it came in handy.

"I mean it, though," Harry said, running a hand through Ron's hair, "You were amazing. I knew I could trust you."

Ron sighed in a happy and content sort of way, resting more heavily on Harry as the simple touch relaxed him. Harry continued to stroke Ron's hair, happy to give him what he wanted for the moment. Harry figured he deserved it. They laid that way for several more minutes, just enjoying the closeness.

"We should probably go downstairs," Harry said finally, though everything in him wanted to stay there.

"No," Ron muttered against Harry's chest, making him chuckle.

"Come on," Harry said, trying to move, but Ron lifted his head and kissed him.

"No," he said again when he pulled away, smiling at Harry.

"Oh, really?" Harry replied with a smirk, very much enjoying himself. He pushed himself up to a seated position and Ron followed suit, quickly leaning over to kiss Harry.

"Let's just stay in bed all day," Ron murmured, snaking a hand under the blanket and running it up and down Harry's thigh.

Tingles shot up Harry's spine and for one brief moment he really considered it. But when he heard laughter downstairs he snapped back to reality, which was enjoying Ron's lips for a few more minutes, but had to stop when Ron's hand began to move from his thigh.

"Nice try," Harry said with a laugh, "But we really should go." He gave Ron one final kiss and climbed out of the bed.

Ron groaned, Harry shot him a stern look and reluctantly Ron got out of the bed and got dressed as well, wincing slightly as he pulled on a shirt. Harry glanced over Ron's torso for a moment, taking in the bruises. Though after last night, Harry had a few as well. Both of them had been rather emphatic and the grabbing and groping and biting had quickly gotten out of control. Harry smiled to himself as he pulled on his own long sleeved shirt.

Once they were both dressed and headed for the door, Harry paused and stopped Ron.

"What?" Ron asked, startled.

Harry smiled at him and held his face as he kissed him softly.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," Ron replied with a smile.

"You think Fred still hates me?" Harry asked. There was a part of him that was genuinely curious. Fred hadn't said anything when he left the room the night before. Ron had been very believable, it was true, but Harry couldn't be sure.

"No," Ron said reassuringly, squeezing Harry's hand, "He can't be mad anymore." He smiled. "And I'm always on your side, Harry."

"I know," Harry replied, "And you are perfect." Ron looked rather pleased with himself.

Together they went down to breakfast, sitting on either side of Hermione and facing the twins. Fred glanced in their direction with an unreadable expression. Harry stared back at him until he went back to eating. Content for the moment, Harry started to eat as well.

They spent the day in a flurry at Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley wanted to make it as quick as possible, thereby organizing their entire trip down to the minute. The entire trip took roughly two hours, and after they had spent the day being rushed and weighed down by heavy parcels of books and other supplies, Harry and Ron deposited their purchases on the floor and collapsed on the bed.

"I'm exhausted," Ron said heavily.

"Me too," Harry replied with a yawn. He turned into Ron and pulled him into a hug, resting his chin on Ron's shoulder. Ron buried his face between Harry's neck and shoulder, making a happy sounding noise. Harry couldn't hold back his smile. Though Harry had molded Ron into a perfect little puppet, there were still some things about Ron that were just unmistakably…him. And Harry adored that more and more each day.

"I hate not being able to touch you," Ron said, his voice muffled against Harry's clothing.

"I know, love," Harry whispered, tracing circles on Ron's back.

"What's going to happen at school?" Ron asked suddenly, pulling back from Harry and looking worried.

Harry's stomach flipped at the mention of school, but he tried to not let it register on his face.

"What do you mean?" He asked, frowning.

"I mean…" Ron trailed off, "Are we still…together?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" Harry asked, he had attempted to not sound too angry, but he could tell by Ron's face going from worried to startled, that it hadn't worked.

"I just meant…" Ron stammered "I was just wondering…maybe it's time to tell people. At least Hermione."

Harry inhaled slowly. He wanted to get angrier but something was holding him back. Finally he sighed and grabbed Ron's hand.

"Let's worry about school at school, okay?" He said, rubbing Ron's palm with his thumb and smiling, "It'll be okay, I promise."

Ron looked relieved, and eagerly inched forward. Harry took no issue in Ron pulling him into a deep kiss. Though Harry had been the first to initiate the physical contact with Ron, what he hadn't expected was how much he actually enjoyed it. Sex was supposed to have just been another form of control, but had easily slipped into becoming a benefit. They had both figured out each other's bodies, mercilessly attacking sensitive spots, moving in ways that would please the other. Harry had been caught off guard by how submissive Ron actually was, and how much they both enjoyed it. Every moment of skin on skin managed to feel like Ron was practically worshipping him, and Harry had grown very addicted to it.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by a clattering of feet, he expected they would stop as usual, and was absorbed by the kissing, enjoying the fluid way their mouths worked together. Ron had been just as absorbed as Harry, because when they heard a knock at the door and the doorknob start to turn, they both startled violently and jumped out of the bed. Just as the door opened and Hermione walked in, Harry noticed that the button was undone on both his and Ron's pants. His shirt was covering his but Ron's shirt was slightly askew and part of the bottom of it was bunched up on top of slightly lowered jeans. Ron quickly brushed at his shirt so it fell.

"I've come to get you for lunch," Hermione said, giving no indication of whether or not she had noticed.

"We'll be down in a few," Harry told her, "I have to talk to Ron about…something."

Hermione frowned skeptically, but left the room, shutting the door behind her. Harry walked over to the door and listened to her retreating footsteps. He looked over at Ron, who had reached to fix the button on his jeans.

"Before you do that," Harry said, "Come here."

Ron smiled as he crossed the room, and gasped when Harry grabbed him and pushed him against the door, with his palms flat against the tattered wood, and his back to Harry. Harry pushed himself harshly against Ron, kissing the back of his neck, and winding one hand around his waist and down the front of his pants. Ron immediately whined, his hips bucking against Harry's hand.

"You like that?" Harry murmured into Ron's ear. As always, Ron's head rolled in the direction of Harry's voice. Harry masterfully worked Ron's cock with his hand, rutting his palm against the length and fondling his balls with his fingers. "Or would you rather have my cock in your ass, hm?" He loved posing his statements as questions, Ron always got flustered, caught between needing to answer and not being able to.

Ron groaned quietly, resting his head against his arm, his whole upper body resting heavily against the door. Harry laughed and began stroking as he continued to murmur into Ron's ear.

"That's why you really want to tell everyone isn't it?" He swirled his thumb around the head of Ron's pulsing member. "You want them to know what a whore you are for me. You want them to know how hard you get just thinking about me fucking your tight ass, don't you?" Ron was shaking now, letting out sputtering gasps and whines as Harry worked his hand up and down, Ron rocking his hips with the motions. "Should I tell them, Ron? Should I tell them how you fuck my hand when you're really thinking about how badly you want me to treat you like the whore you are?" He chuckled lightly when he heard Ron swear sharply under his breath, both of his hands balling into fists against the door. "I'll tell them how you turn into a mindless little fuck toy the moment I put my hands on you." Ron moaned, muffling the noise by biting his arm, Harry knew he had about ten seconds. "I don't think I told you you could cum." He chuckled again when Ron whimpered. "Do you want to cum?"

Ron wordlessly nodded, panting heavily. Harry slowed down his stroking.

"Use your words," he said tantalizingly, swirling his thumb around the head of Ron's cock again, which was now leaking with pre-cum, eager for release.

"Fuck, Harry," Ron gasped, his body tense.

"Later, love," Harry whispered, "Go on. Ask for permission and I'll let you, I know you want to." He began stroking again, watching sweat break out over Ron's face as he struggled to hold back on his orgasm.

"P…please," Ron sputtered, hips rocking.

"Please, what?" Harry asked innocently, increasing his speed, "What do you want?" His own cock was twitching impatiently, but he ignored it.

"Please can I cum?" Ron whined with apparent desperation.

"Good boy," Harry purred, "Go ahead, cum all over my hand." The second the words were out of Harry's mouth, Ron did just that. Harry removed his hand and was surprised when Ron grabbed his wrist, bringing Harry's hand up to his mouth. Before he could even speak, stars exploded in Harry's eyes as he felt Ron's tongue weaving through his fingers. Harry's painfully hard erection gave another twitch of excitement. He actually shuddered when Ron slowly sucked on his index finger. The whole thing was almost too much for Harry, but he remained in control, though it was getting difficult.

Harry dropped his hand and gripped Ron's waist, placing his mouth next to Ron's ear.

"That was incredibly sexy," he whispered, grinding his very impatient cock against Ron's backside.

"I thought you'd like that," Ron replied cheekily, still out of breath.

"Feels like you thought right," Harry said, grinding even harder against him. Then, slowly, he slid a hand up Ron's stomach and to his chest. "Now can you be good and do me a favor?" He tilted to kiss Ron on the cheek as he nodded. Harry kissed his cheek again and then moved his hand to just below Ron's neck. He felt Ron's breath hitch and his body go tense. Harry danced his fingers along the base of Ron's throat, and Ron began shaking again for a completely different reason. Something tugged at Harry's heart for a moment, but he shook it off and spoke quietly but forcefully. "I don't want to hear any more about when, or what, we're going to tell people, okay?" Ron nodded, still holding his breath. "Good boy." Harry dropped his hand and turned Ron around to face him. He looked devastatingly shaken.

Harry kissed Ron as he redid the button on his pants, then looked at him. Ron still looked shaken, and now confused, but Harry didn't have time to worry about Ron's feelings at the moment. He kissed him gently again then pushed down on Ron's shoulders until he was on his knees.

Harry felt some guilt in his stomach over the next day or so about what he'd done. Using something as strong as one of Ron's worst fears, something that had clearly broken him in some way, was not one of his proudest moments. But he had been desperate, Ron had such a strong hope for telling people about them, and he needed it to stop. Telling people would lose Harry too much. Ron was almost completely compliant. Opening up about the relationship Ron thought they had would only invite people in, and too many opinions would begin to enter Ron's mind, and Harry couldn't have that. He needed Ron to need him for everything. Every answer, every opinion, every emotion.

And he was so close.

Harry was nearly confident now that Ron had stopped considering the thought of telling others, or at least he finally stopped voicing it. Harry noticed Ron had gotten into the habit of glancing in Harry's direction, wherever they were, rather frequently. Many people started asking Ron what was the matter, why was he so quiet. And Ron merely shrugged them off. Hermione was the most badgering. Constantly questioning Ron about his behavior typically until he would snap at her. Even Harry had to admit, in the open Ron was less like himself than usual. But at night or when they were alone, he was usually very warm and open with Harry.

There were only a few days left until they were to return go Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent a lot of the time where, when Ron wasn't snapping at Hermione for pestering him, they discussed their potential upcoming class schedules.

One evening after dinner and talking with Hermione and Ginny in their room for a while, Harry found himself and Ron entangled in each other, Ron's back against the wall, his hands sliding up Harry's chest underneath his shirt. Harry placed a hand firmly on the back of Ron's neck as he bit and sucked a sensitive spot just below Ron's ear. He then began to slide Ron's shirt up and over his head, only moving away from the spot he'd been working on briefly, then immediately returning to it as he ran his fingers up and down Ron's bruised sides. Ron shivered and then sighed happily when Harry finally returned to his mouth. They were blissfully wrapped up in each other, the warm breeze coming in through the open window.

Then there was a short few raps on the bedroom door. Harry and Ron tore away from each other, Ron bending down to pick up his shirt, when Ginny blustered in.

"I'm supposed to ask you-" she cut off after her eyes settled on her brother, he had his shirt held up against his torso, but the bruising on his sides was evident, even from a distance. "-what the hell happened to you?" Ginny finished. Harry assumed this probably wasn't what she was sent to ask.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly, but managed nonchalance, pulling his shirt on, "What were you going to ask?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes, looking from Harry to Ron. Harry's heart was erratic. His blood was rushing loudly in his ears as he tried to stand still, looking politely puzzled.

"I'm serious," Ginny said firmly, her arms crossed, "What was that? Why are you all banged up?"

"I'm not," Ron said with a smile and laugh, "Now either say what you've come to say or get out."

Ginny looked once again from Harry to Ron, and back again. Harry wondered what details she would pick up on. Both his and Ron's tousled hair? The slightly red mark on Ron's neck where Harry had been sucking minutes before? The fact that both of them had been very flushed when she had walked in?

"I've come to ask for your laundry," Ginny said finally, "Mum wants it done by tomorrow."

"I'll bring it down in the morning," Ron replied, "Now get out."

Ginny raised one eyebrow, then slowly turned around. She left the room silently without shutting the door. Ron moved swiftly to shut it then turned a pained expression to Harry, who was panicking silently.

"She's going to get Fred," Ron said quietly, "He'll make me show him."

"I know," Harry said, hearing raised voices from the floor below them, "Look…don't…don't worry, okay? Just don't say anything. But," he heard the approaching feet and Ron moved away from the door, "Everything will be okay. I love you, okay?"

Ron nodded just as the door opened, Fred bursting inside with George and Ginny at his heels. Fred raised his wand rather casually for how grim his expression was as he looked at his brother. Ron managed to remain calm, pushing his hands into his back pockets.

"Can we help you?" Ron asked, annoyance dripping in his tone.

"Show me," Fred replied, "I'm sick of this. Whatever you're hiding. Just show me, Ron."

"I don't have to show you anything," Ron said with a scoff, but he took the slightest of steps backward.

Harry remained silent. Anything he said at this point would not make the situation better. Silence was best. And he could trust Ron. And he needed Ron to trust him for what he was about to do.

Fred closed his eyes for a moment, as if to gather himself.

"I don't want to get mum and dad involved, Ron," he said slowly when his eyes opened, "I know you don't either. So it's either me or them, take your pick."

It was a well spoken ultimatum. Harry even knew it was, so he could not blame Ron for managing to look panicked, and even look over at Harry. They locked eyes in desperation, each trying to say something to the other without words. Ron finally looked back at his brother and pulled his hands out if his pockets.

"Make Ginny get out," Ron finally said, defeated, but now looking angry.

Ginny scoffed but at the furious glare Fred shot her, she left, clearly put out. George stood in front of the closed door, crossing his arms. He looked similarly grim as Fred, but was handling it much better than his twin.

With shaking hands Ron lifted his shirt, only enough to show the bruises along his waist, but no higher, where Harry knew there were some on his shoulders, chest, and probably upper arms. Ron dropped his shirt after a moment.

"It's…it's really not what you think," Ron stammered, his shoulders dropping.

Harry crossed his arms. Ron was right, from Fred and George's point of view, and because they bruises were overlapping and not quite distinguishable as handprints, it probably looked like Harry had beaten up Ron out of anger. Their minds would most likely not jump to aggressive sex. And Harry did not know which was worse to admit to.

"Then what is it?" Fred demanded, "Why are you all beat up?"

"I…" Ron said slowly, "We got into a fight. It was nothing."

"And that's where you got your bruises?" George asked suddenly, startling all of them, "Because it looks like he didn't get you anywhere else."

Fred lowered his wand slowly, and is if their two minds had blended to try and piece together this puzzle, George started walking until he was next to his twin, and they both stared at Ron and Harry.

"What's going on?" Fred demanded.

"Nothing," Ron snapped, "Just drop it."

"I'm not buying it anymore," Fred retorted, his face growing red, "Something is going on. What is he doing to you?"

Ron shot Harry a quick glance. Harry eyed him back, trying not to look nervous. Ron took a deep, shaking breath, and Harry could see…he was caving. Don't, he thought loudly. Ron looked over at Harry again, both of them pleaded with each other with their eyes. When Ron turned back to Fred and George and opened his mouth, Harry spoke first,

"I'll leave."

"What?" Ron gasped, as though all the air had left him, and his eyes went wide.

"I'll leave," Harry repeated, he moved toward his trunk then stopped and looked at the twins, who were watching him, disbelieving. "I'll leave, I'll leave Ron alone, alright? I can get to Hogwarts on my own and…and I'll leave him alone. Ginny will be there to confirm it."

Fred and George remained silent, their faces stubbornly trying to figure out what, exactly, was going on.

"Please don't go," Ron said quietly, defaulting to a voice he typically only used with Harry when they were alone. Small, desperate, pleading.

"If he wants to go, let him go," Fred said flatly, trying to look at his younger brother, but Ron was still looking at Harry, "I don't know what the bloody hell has been going on, but there's no reason you should be all banged up like that. You're both hiding something and it's pretty obvious it's not-"

"Shut up!" Ron snapped loudly, glaring at Fred, then turning back to Harry, "Don't. Go." He was trying to speak firmly but his voice was quivering.

"Look," Harry said with a sigh, he had to get out of there quickly, Ron was cracking, "It's for the best, okay? He's right." Ron now had a look of confusion in his eyes along with everything else.

As Harry opened his trunk he caught sight of George, who was looking in Harry and Ron's direction, brow furrowed and forehead wrinkled. Harry's skin prickled. George was more prone to seeing the gray area in a situation, whereas Fred was only seeing black and white. Ron was hurt, and Harry had done it. As far as Fred seemed concerned, Harry was probably attacking Ron. But, from his expression, George was definitely seeing the grey. The placement of Ron's bruising, the defending of Harry, pleading with Harry not to leave.

Harry grabbed a sweatshirt, and a book from his trunk while the twins watched. He placed them on Ron's desk.

"These are yours, I packed them by mistake." Harry was finding it difficult to say these things to Ron, who looked miserable. But he had to. And Ron had to be patient. "It's okay, Ron," he tried to not sound like he was rushing, Ron deserved more than that, but Harry had to leave before Ron said something too obvious, "Listen to Fred, he just wants what's best for you."

Ron looked from the items Harry had sat on his desk, to him, and Harry could almost hear him thinking, trying to figure it out. Finally Ron nodded.

"Then get out," Fred snapped bitterly.

"Fred," Ron said, looking scared now as Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk, and struggling to try for a last minute appeal,"It's night. And…and we're going-"

"Ron," George said firmly, yet somehow a faint tone of pity cut through, as he strode over to his youngest brother, "Just…leave it alone, now, alright?" Ron did not appear to be comforted at all. But he also did not follow as Harry levitated his trunk as to not make noise, and was followed all the way out the front door by Fred.

"It's really not what you think," Harry said quietly as they walked out the front door.

"You don't know what I think," Fred snapped harshly, their feet crunching along dry dirt and pebbles.

"Then why do you hate me?" Harry asked, annoyed.

Fred stopped walking. Harry did as well. Fred turned to look at him, his face stern.

"I don't really need to know what you two are hiding. My brother has been your best friend for years and has risked his life for you. Has treated you well. Has had your back. And whatever it is that you are doing to him, whether or not you know you're doing it, it's hurting him. And I'm quite frankly sick of you hurting my family. Ron doesn't deserve it. So do something good for him, for once in your life, Harry, and leave him alone."

Harry looked over at the Burrow, toward Ron's window, where Ron was standing, staring at him as though feeling betrayed, and then he turned back to Fred.

"You can't blame me for things he does of his own free will," Harry said frankly, then turned back toward the path and continued walking.

He knew Fred watched him walking away. Making sure Harry would be long gone.

~2 Hours Later~

Harry seated himself in a dusty and eerily sticky wooden stool at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron. He sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He almost felt like he was in shock. After waving off an old bartender he did not recognize, he replaced his glasses and glanced at his watch.

He wasn't sure why he felt so shaken. He had, of course, never planned on returning to Hogwarts. He had also never planned on taking Ron with him when he ran away. That had simply fallen into his lap, and with some tweaks here and there, Ron had proven the best accomplice for this matter. And now it felt crucial for Ron to be here. Whatever he did, wherever he went, Ron was the one he needed with him.

He waved the bartender back to order a butterbeer, purely to have something to do with his hands. As he sipped on his drink he imagined the scenario in his head. Ron had probably thrown George out and taken a few moments to settle down, before going over the items Harry had left behind. Finding the note in Quidditch Through the Ages, telling Ron he loved him no matter what, and that if he could forgive him for leaving, to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron. And the pouch of galleons Harry had put in the pocket of the hooded sweatshirt, for means to get there.

Harry checked the time again, Harry just knew Ron would come. He had to. Ron couldn't possibly want to be with anyone else more than him. Harry had at least attempted to drive a wedge between Ron and the twins, and Ron had even started to veer away from Hermione. If Harry hadn't had to slow down due to the mistake with the choking, he felt he could have produced more results. And if Ron hadn't bruised so easily. Harry couldn't blame himself for that, though.

Harry took another sip of his drink, waiting. He knew he had to account for Ron making his brothers leave him alone, then he'd be likely to wait until everyone was asleep, then actually get out and far enough away before summoning the Knight Bus. If Ron did everything the way Harry had set him up to, Ron would be here within the next hour.

While Harry contemplated this, his brain began to wander elsewhere. He thought about everything he had done and said to his best friend. Especially about love. Did he love Ron? Harry considered this. He was certainly useful for some things. Harry always felt better around them. He came to the conclusion that maybe, in time, he could convince himself to love Ron. As long as Ron remained useful. Remained malleable. Quick to please, quick to forgive. That was all Harry really needed.

Harry sighed and shifted on the uncomfortable bar stool. He drained his drink and set the empty bottle down, looking around the halfway full pub. The chatter was getting louder but Harry didn't mind, he let the dull conversations drown out his thoughts. Harry glanced at his watch again, then flagged down the bartender.

"One more?" the harried man asked in a raspy voice.

"Two, please," Harry replied.

Moments later there were two bottles sitting in front of him, and the bell above the door of the pub tinkled. Harry grabbed one of the bottles of butterbeer and twisted it open to take a sip, as he lowered it he heard the voice behind him.

"Harry?"

Harry smiled as he turned around and faced Ron, who looked both relieved to see Harry and terrified at his own daring.

"You came," Harry said, standing up and stepping toward him.

"Well…yeah," Ron replied with a small laugh, "Of course I did." He now looked sadly hopeful.

Harry hugged him tightly and Ron sighed, sounding exhausted.

"I love you," Harry whispered, their embrace and whispers going unnoticed.

"I love you, too," Ron replied, he let go of Harry and smiled, but then looked worried, "But…what are we going to do? We still have the trace on us, and my mums clock-"

"Stop worrying," Harry said firmly, he placed a hand on Ron's arm and softened his tone, "I'll worry about that. You just…do what you do best, alright?"

"What's that?" Ron asked with a scoff, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"Make me happy."