"I'm sorry, Harry," Ron said, the moment they stepped out of the house and onto the doorstep.
"Sorry?" Harry asked, "you've known for two weeks and you didn't tell me?"
"I was going to but…"
"Not only that, but you've discussed baby names?"
"Harry, just listen…"
"I'm your best mate, Ron," Harry spat, "and you couldn't even tell me that much?"
"Why are you getting so worked up about this?" Ron yelled back.
"Because I…" Harry trailed off, because, because why, why was he getting so worked up about this? It's not like he hadn't kept secrets from Ron. And Hermione had said they'd been keeping it secret because they weren't sure yet, but…
"Because I thought we were closer than this," Harry lied, turning away.
"We are close, it's just…"
"It's just what? You couldn't even tell me that you'd knocked up your girlfriend and got her pregnant?"
"I…"
"You what?"
"Never mind," Ron said quietly. He turned around and headed back into the house. Harry waited a minute before following him back in. He walked in just in time to hear Mrs. Weasley loudly ask.
"So, when are you going to propose to her?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks.
Ron who was standing at the end of the table looked up. He opened his mouth to say something before he spotted Harry in the doorway. His eyes darkened.
"Right now," Ron said, and turned towards Hermione, reaching into his pocket. Harry didn't see the rest. He'd already turned and left. And as soon as he got home he collapsed into a pile on their doorstep and cried.
Ginny hadn't spoken to him for three days. But it was fine, it wasn't like Harry had spoken to her either. But at least they weren't arguing. Mostly she'd gone about as if he didn't exist. Which was fine. He just spent his days watching the telly that he'd bought when they'd first gotten together after the war. It was the first argument they'd ever had when he came home with it. She was pissed that he was wasting his money on such silly muggle things. He just wanted a telly.
He was glad he hadn't given in and gotten rid of the telly. It'd done him a damn load better than Ginny ever had.
"Hermione and Ron are having an engagement party." The voice that he hadn't heard for three days startled him.
"What?" Harry looked up.
"I said, Hermione and Ron are having an engagement party, tomorrow night," Ginny said, "we're both invited."
"Oh." They were both silent for a minute.
"You know, I really don't understand what is going on between us two…" Harry stood up and kissed her, cutting her words off. She tasted like bitter gasoline, but Harry kissed harder, willing himself to enjoy it. He was sick and tired of this shit. If Ron got his happy ending, then he was going to damn well have his own, even if he had to fake it every step of the way.
They slept together for the first time in months that night. Neither one enjoyed it; both of them forced it. They poured out all their pent up frustrations into that one bestial act. Just as they were both nearly there, Harry found himself saying the one name he never thought he'd say during sex,
"Ron."