Chapter 4: At The Ministry

"Harry, hold up!"

In as non-threatening a tone as he could manage, Ron called out loudly across the cavernous expanse of the Ministry's crowded atrium. Harry stopped dead in his tracks and turned around slowly, taking a long appraising look at his friend.

"Should I run?" he asked drily.

Ron grinned despite himself, looking a bit sheepish. "Of course not," he said evenly, approaching Harry with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, hoping to communicate he just wanted to talk.

Three days had passed since the "unfortunate incident at the pub," as Hermione had taken to calling it, alternately known as the "bloody brilliant brawl" to George (and privately to Ron). Remorse had crept up on Ron by degrees, thanks in no small part to the considerable efforts of his wife. Decking his best friend over a moment that "didn't amount to anything" (Hermione) had seemed less and less reasonable a reaction as the weekend had worn on.

Ron stopped a few feet short of Harry, and the two surveyed each other warily for a long moment. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Ron spoke.

"Er, how are you feeling?" he asked in what he hoped was a sincere tone.

"Tip top."

Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The prat clearly wasn't going to make this easy. Disappointed somehow by the improved appearance of Harry's eye, Ron experienced a sudden impulse to blacken it again.

Still, it wouldn't do to start beating on the bloke at work. Hermione might have tolerated one punch thrown in a heated moment, but she'd hardly approve of a second beat-down delivered in front of their Ministry colleagues. And Ginny might get stroppy and come after him for marking up her blessed fiance. Not to mention what his boss would certainly do if he went about randomly slugging other aurors.

Ron sighed. Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe it was best to put this behind them.

"Listen-" Ron began, stopping suddenly when he realized he had no idea what he wanted to say.

"Yeah?" Harry said, looking skeptical already.

Suddenly Ron recalled what he'd said to Hermione Thursday night.

"I might have... er, overreacted," he said in a rush, going pink in the face immediately.

"You think?" Harry said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Relaxing a little at the change in Harry's tone, Ron gave a long sigh. "What do you expect, mate? She's my life."

Harry openly grinned at Ron as he blushed hard and studied his shoes. Sensing he was determined to keep things civil, Harry took a few steps closer to his friend.

"Listen, Ron. Nothing happened."

"I know. Hermione told me."

"I never would have.. you know.. done anything. Honestly."

Ron snorted in reply, his skepticism obvious.

"I'd really like to explain," Harry said, looking sincere.

"Harry, I don't think I want to hear about it."

"I think it would help, Ron."

Ron sighed heavily. Hermione was the one who usually wanted to talk every bloody thing through, not Harry. Still.. he had slugged his best friend, and with no fair warning to boot. At the very least, he owed him a hearing.

"Okay," Ron said quietly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets again in hopes of keeping them there should Harry set him off.

Harry took another step closer to his friend as the crowds of Ministry workers streamed past them in the morning rush to get to their offices. This was hardly the best place to be having a private conversation, but at least they were talking.

"She was in pieces after you left, mate," Harry began quietly.

A familiar flicker of guilt passed across Ron's face.

"I'd never seen her that way before, and it scared me. All she did was cry, and wear your jumper, and listen to that damned radio of yours."

Ron was staring at his shoes again, a collection of regrets written all over his face. Harry swallowed a lump in his throat and forced himself to continue.

"I just wanted to make her feel better."

Ron's head snapped up.

"Not.. not like that," Harry added quickly, holding his hands up innocently as Ron made a menacing move in his direction.

"Not what I meant," Harry said again, trying to smile. Ron stopped moving but continued to glare at him.

"I was just trying to cheer her up a bit. That's all," Harry said, hurrying to get to the point. "There was a song on the radio, and I was trying to get her to dance. Not.. Not close dancing," he said, gauging Ron's reaction.

"Just friend dancing, goofy dancing actually. And then-" Harry paused and shook his head as though trying to banish the memory.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he said finally, hanging his head.

Ron was in his face suddenly.

"Something you can never think again," he said with an intensity that made Harry take a half step back from him.

"I won't.. I don't.. I don't think about her that way, you know that," Harry said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"That's your job," he added, trying for levity. "You're good at it."

Ron smiled a little, removing his hands from his pockets.

"I love your sister, Ron. You know that."

Ron wasn't looking at him, but he nodded slightly. Harry could feel his friend warming up to him bit by bit.

"And for reasons known only to her," Harry continued, grinning now, "Hermione has never wanted anybody but you."

Ron grinned full on and raised his head. "It's a mystery," he said, smiling.

Harry smiled, too, enjoying his friend's ease at poking fun at himself. Ron's confidence in Hermione's feelings for him had been a long time in coming. But he was miles beyond the skinny, unsure kid he'd once been back at Hogwarts. Ron was a war hero, an auror, and had "somehow got the girl" (as he put it), all of which had done loads for his confidence.

Harry studied him. "So, we're okay?" he asked hopefully.

Ron paused. "So long as it never happens again."

"It won't, Ron. Believe me."

"Any suggestions as to how?" Ron attempted to keep his tone light, but Harry sensed his question was a serious one.

Telling him the truth seemed the best option.

"I want what you have, okay?" Harry said quietly. "What your parents have. And Hermione's. What my parents would have if-" Harry paused, dropping his head.

Ron couldn't help but reach out and give his friend a supportive pat, prompting Harry to continue.

"One guy, one girl," Harry said. "And a family. That's what I want, Ron."

Ron studied his friend for a long moment, then nodded slightly. "Okay," he said.

"So, we're good then?"

"So long as you understand the ground rules."

"I believe you've made those clear. Several times."

They both chuckled.

"Listen," Ron said after a moment, "about Ginny-"

"Already handled."

"What do you mean 'handled'?" Ron asked, his good humor fading.

Harry hurried to explain. "She turned up at the pub two minutes after you left. Demanded to know why you were after me and what was up with my face." Harry rubbed his left cheek absently. "I told her during the year we were on the run, for about two seconds, I thought about trying to kiss Hermione. She seemed to think your reaction was reasonable."

Ron laughed out loud. "She would, yeah," he said, grinning.

Harry nodded, smiling.

"So you two are okay?"

"Yeah. Turns out she nearly kissed Neville that year we were gone."

Ron nearly swallowed his tongue in his astonishment. "What, Neville?!" Harry nodded, chuckling.

"Never would have thought the bugger had it in him!" Ron exclaimed, amused by this latest development.

Harry nodded. "Ginny was worrying over us. Neville was fretting over Luna getting snatched. Both of them were lonely, scared." He blew out a long breath. "We decided to chalk it all up to the worst year of our lives and let it go."

"Seems reasonable," Ron said quietly, nodding to himself.

The two stood in a companionable silence each in their own thoughts until Harry jerked his thumb in the direction of the lifts.

"Shall we?"

"Yeah, reckon so. Before the boss sends a posse out after us."

They both turned and moved briskly towards the lifts, eliciting occasional stares from fellow Ministry workers as they walked together across the crowded atrium. Their celebrity status was here to stay, it seemed.

"So, where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"In her office since six already."

"Really needs to develop a work ethic, that one."

"I try to tell her."

They both chuckled.

"She let you sleep?"

"Well, she knows I like my pillow."

Harry nodded, smiling. They neared the end of the hall, moving rapidly together through the crowd of hurrying workers.

"You've got a hell of a right hook, by the way," Harry said pleasantly, sounding impressed.

"Really?" Ron couldn't help but grin.

"No, Ron. I was on my arse for fun."

They reached the queue for the lifts smiling and quickly maneuvered to the end of the shortest line.

"I think Hermione was a bit impressed actually," Ron confided.

Harry rolled his eyes. "She didn't even see you hit me, Ron."

"She saw the end result, didn't she?! And you'll never guess what she did last night." Ron was grinning from ear to ear.

Harry gave a loud groan. "Merlin, STOP. Didn't we agree never to talk about that stuff?" He'd had the unfortunate experience of walking in on them a few months prior and had yet to purge that image from his mind, much less have to deal with new ones.

"Get your mind out the gutter, Harry! I wasn't talking about THAT. I'm talking about-"

"Just stop talking, Ron. You two are soppy enough as it is."

"Harry-"

"Ron. Stop talking."

Ron gave his friend an amiable shove, and they walked together into the lift.