The week passed them without any mentioning of the minutes they had spent together in the bathroom. Actually, it passed without them spending much time at all together, and when they where a lot of other students was usually around. Harry couldn't really figure out if he was the one trying to avoid Ron or if it was the other way around, all he knew was that he had started hanging out with Hermione and Ginny whilst Ron seemed to find Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas a lot more interesting than ever before.
As Seamus was telling another quite offensive joke at dinner in the great hall that Friday Ron couldn't help to think how little time he could spend with the Irish lad without wanting to pull his own or Seamus hair out. Though, the thought, it was much better than being alone all day since Harry seemed to be avoiding him, and with that taking Hermione with him. He glanced quickly at the raven haired boy and saw that he was nitpicking his food, when Hermione's hand suddenly appeared in front of his gaze.
"Ron, are you OK?"
Her sharp voice pierced the surrounding conversations and it seemed as if everyone was looking at him. He looked alarmed as he choked on the answer, tried to drink some water and spilled most of it on his uniform shirt. His loud coughs seemed to echo against the walls, and he was sure that even the Slytherins on the other side of the hall was staring bothered at him.
"Uh, yeah. Of course... Uhm... Yeah, you know..."
He tried to speak, but it seemed as if he had forgotten how to – sure, he had never been very eloquent but a simple "Yes" shouldn't have been a problem.
Harry was looking at his cooked crustacean-coloured friend and felt really bad for him. Ron would probably beat himself up for this all evening, he thought. He heard Hermione question Ron about his absent ways, and was quite interested when Fred and George's heads intruded his eyesight in a way that felt almost violent.
"Hey kiddo's, we're having a little get together in the common room tonight so try to take some butterbeer with you. We only got a few bottles of wine out of the kitchen before the house elves caught..."
"We mean, before the house elves had, W I L L I N G L Y, given us what they felt was enough." Fred interjected into George's rant.
Hermione's attention, that had just until now been busy dissecting Ron's personal turmoil went to questioning the morality of Fred and George's action – a for Ron welcomed change. He began arranging himself to leave the table and head for the Gryffindor tower and as he walked away he heard that distinct voice challenge his brothers. "... underage drinking leads to... taking advantage of innocent, hard working house elves..."
Harry was walking up the stairs to the dormitory, feeling his ears return to normal as the high volume-music grew more distant. His feet seemed a bit wobbly on their soles which made him think that he had had a bit to much to drink but to his recollection he only had two or three butterbeers. Maybe he was just nervous? He knocked on the door before entering. Why he did so he didn't really know, it was as much his room as anybody else's and he'd never done so before. Ron was lying in his bed and, to Harry's surprise, reading a book which he slam shut as soon as Harry entered.
"Ron, are you coming downstairs?" he asked.
Ron rolled over and faced his friend, and laid silent for a few seconds before answering.
"Uhm, yeah. Sure. In a while." he said, and rolled back to his original position. He opened his book and started reading again.
Harry didn't feel like staying as Ron didn't seem to be very hospitable, so he just went to his trunk, got a cardigan and left.
The fire was roaring warmth onto her back as she sat on the deep red woven rug in front of the fireplace with Ginny to her right, Harry across and Neville on her left. George appeared from nowhere, it seemed, and parked his behind between her and Ginny with great trouble. He seemed very drunk.
"Ginny, my dear dear daughter! Or, no... Sister.. Sister, that's right huh? How's it going? Wait... What, what are you doing here anyway? You're to young to be drinking... Go! To bed with you.. Go poff!" - the last word said with a grandeur hand gesture which seemed to mean something like "I don't know what I'm trying to say, but I'll say it with determination!".
"I'm not even drinking, dung head, it's just soda. And if anyone's ready for bed, it's you." she calmly replied.
"Well, you're right! You're so right about that. ANGELINAAAA! Come! Take me to bed you minx!" he shouted across the room while trying to stand up, succeeding only thanks to the sturdy support of Hermione's head. His weight almost pushed her into the fireplace. Neville laughed a bit, took a sip of wine and leaned his head against Harry's shoulder. He on the other hand felt that Neville was getting a bit to comfortable and left them to sit in an empty sofa he had spotted. Just when he sat down, Ginny appeared and sat down next to him. Her eyes are just like Ron's the thought.
As he was came out into the common room, he felt the stench of sweat and teenagers hitting his face almost like a wall. Up in the dormitory the air had been cool and fresh whilst this room was in desperate need of an open window. He leaned over a table with empty cups and a half full bottle of firewhiskey, unhooked the window and pushed it open with his fingertips. The fresh oxygen felt like a soft but yet brisk hand across his face. He scouted the room, saw Hermione sitting by the fire with Neville, George and Angelina was, (barely), standing beside them with quite intertwined limbs and very interlocked tongues. He let his eyes wander a bit more, and found what he was looking for. Or, who. Harry sat in the small, uncomfortable, orange sofa with Ginny. They seemed to be having quite a good time. He was just about to walk over when he saw the red head lean over and kiss the boy, who closed his eyes and leaned in a bit as well. Ron's heart fell in his chest, or if it fell out of him completely. He was about to head for the dormitory again when he turned around, grabbed the bottle on the table with a firm grasp and went for the exit instead. As he walked past his sister and best friend, he met the latter's gaze.
When he saw those green eyes fly by him in the haze, he realized what he was doing and sat up straight.
"Is something wrong?" Ginny asked, brittly.
"Sorry, this isn't... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I have to go." he said in haste as he went after Ron through the Fat lady.
"Youngsters out in the hall at night! Such improprieties!" she sang out into the stairwell.
"Shut up!" Harry yelled at the painting. "Where did the other he go?"
"Where did who go?" she answered, annoyed.
"The marching marsh troll of Wales... The other improper youngster, of course! Which way?"
"Oh, no need for that tone young man! He went that way." she said, pointing down the stairs to his right.
"Why is it so cold?" Ron thought. "It's only September". He took another sip from the bottle, and felt the whiskey burn in his throat. The lake seemed evil in the dark. In the horizon, it melted together with the cloudy sky, which didn't show any bit moon nor stars. He had walked down to where the Durmstrang ship had anchored last year. The floating wooden pier that had let the students walk from the ship onto the Hogwarts grounds was still there, like a bridge into plain darkness. He sat down and condemned his decision to storm out of the common room instead of just walking up to his bed and cry himself to sleep. Or, at least, why didn't he think of getting a jacket? He tried to empty the bottle, but couldn't take that much and coughed loudly into the vastness of the night.
"Ron?"
As soon as he heard the voice, he stood up and threw the bottle to his side. He wanted to yell or something, but didn't know what or why.
"I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't want to. I don't want to now either, it wast just... "
"It was just what?" He had found something to yell at his friend. And he did so loudly.
Harry stood their nonplussed, searching for words or actions to grab onto. The cold air was biting through his woolen cardigan as if it was of needles, and as he clutched his arms around himself he started to walk closer to Ron.
"I'm sorry. It's just, I'm not okay... I'm worried..." Harry tried.
"I know that! But you're not the only one that's worried or terrified or haunted of the thought of him, but you're the one going around acting like an arsehole! I... I kissed you and you've ignored me completely until tonight, and when I go to find you I see you snogging my sister! I've been here for you every single way I could since Voldemort returned, but I can't help you – and THAT makes me scared. You have a death warrant on your head, and when you die I'll be all alone. And you know what? With all of that, I'M not okay!"
Ron fell to his knees and started crying. Harry walked all the way over, and squatted beside him.
"I know... I... I'm sorry." Harry uttered, vaguely. Ron looked up at his face, and could see himself in the watery eyes. There was a long moment of silence. Then, he almost flung himself over Harry, clutching to his friend so tightly his muscles could manage, not wanting to let go. He felt Harry's heath pass onto his own chest, first now realizing how cold he must be. Harry toppled over onto his back, and he felt Ron's weight on top of him. He tried to sit up straighter, but Ron was still holding him firmly making the attempt hard, and the thought behind it halfhearted.
They sat like that for what seemed like and hour, but was probably less than ten minutes before Ron started to loosen his grip and tried to stand up. His legs had fallen asleep, and on top of that he know had to realize he was a bit tipsy. Still, he straightened himself out and then helped Harry up with ease. As they started to walk towards the castle, they where still holding hands. Harry stopped them on the castle stairs, standing one staircase higher than Ron to get leveled. Then he kissed his best friend.
"I am... I'm so sorry." Harry said while his lips where touching Ron's.