Harry returned to the dormitory feeling sick and cold. Once he had thrown his invisibility cloak into his trunk haphazardly and slammed his trunk closed he went to sit on his bed, after kicking his nightstand so hard his water cup and lantern clattered to the ground.

"You okay?" a voice behind him asked cautiously.

"I'm fine," Harry snapped, whipping around and seeing that at some point Dean and Seamus had entered the room.

Seamus frowned at him, then looked over at Dean, who shrugged. The door opened behind them and Ron walked in, looking considerably happier than he had earlier. Harry's jaw clenched. Ron immediately sensed the tension as he stepped by Dean and Seamus.

"What's wrong?" He said carefully. Slowly.

Harry wanted to shout. To hex him. To pummel him. But then again, Ron did not know what he had overheard. Harry backtracked and thought of the first issue at hand. That Ron was still with Michael in the first place.

"You know what's wrong," Harry spat.

Ron's ears turned red. He broke his gaze from Harry and walked slowly to his bed. "I'm taking care of it," he said quietly, dropping his bag on the floor.

Harry crossed the room and stood a couple feet from Ron, who turned around to face him.

"When?" Harry asked gruffly.

Dean and Seamus were at their own trunks now, seeming to want to eavesdrop, as their rummaging was not producing anything substantial.

"Tonight," Ron responded carefully, his fingers drumming against his thigh anxiously.

Harry took a few menacing steps forward and Ron sat quickly on his bed, looking up at him. Harry did not want to feel so threatening to him, but if it worked in his favor…maybe it was for the best.

"Take care of it," he said evenly, and Ron nodded, once again looking miserable.

Harry felt the tiniest flicker of guilt, but the thought of Ron being free from the clutches of Michael Corner overtook the guilty feelings. He turned away, and, not wanting to face the confused looks of Dean and Seamus either, left the dorm, taking several deep breaths as he descended the stairs into the common room, where he nearly ran into Ginny.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"How's Ron?" she asked as a response.

"Er, what?" Harry replied, caught off guard. Had Ron said something to her?

Ginny's brow furrowed. "Mike's grandpa died? I was just about to go visit him, I wanted to see if Ron wanted to go."

"Oh." Harry released another breath. "He just got back from visiting. He's…kind of tired now."

Ginny did not respond. She stared at him, hard. Then spoke. "Is something going on between you two? Are you still arguing?"

"We were never arguing," Harry said, ignoring her first question.

Ginny stared for a beat and then rolled her eyes, pushing past Harry to go up to the boys dorm anyway. Harry's jaw clenched for what felt like the hundredth time that day. But, with no where else to go, he sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. He wanted to see Ron leave. He wanted to look at him one last time, to remind him to make the right decision that night.

He sat. He watched Ginny leave, without Ron, to go visit Michael. He sat and just stared at the fire. Watching it slowly die. He sat and watched students drift upstairs until he was the only one left. And he waited.

Finally, somewhere around midnight, Ron descended. Harry immediately stood and looked at him. Ron opened and closed his mouth, clearly unsure what to say, looking pained. Harry crossed the room and approached him. Ron slowly backed away until he bumped into a table.

"You know what you have to do," Harry said quietly, "Right?"

Ron nodded wordlessly, his gaze on the floor. Harry reached forward and lifted his chin, forcing Ron to meet his gaze. Ron flinched and moved his face from Harry's grip.

"Please don't touch me," he whispered shakily, "Just…not until I do it, okay?"

Harry stared at him, realizing just how threatened Ron felt by him. Then he nodded.

"I'll be waiting," he said, "Alright? I know it's going to hurt, but, it's for the best. You have to know that."

Ron sighed, and walked past Harry toward the portrait hall. Before he pushed it open he paused and turned around.

"The best for who, Harry?"

[][][][][][][]

Harry gave Ron a half an hour before he went upstairs to retrieve his cloak and map. As soon as he was back in the common room he opened the map, muttering the phrase quickly, and sought out the prefects bathroom. His skin prickled as he saw Ron Weasley and Michael Corner close together, their names practically overlapping.

He threw on his cloak and headed out. He was barely thinking. The anger blurred his vision. He kept himself from running, he couldn't just go bursting in. He didn't know the password. So his only option was to wait. Wait and see what Ron actually decided. Would he actually…lose his virginity to Michael? Or would he end things? Or…even both? Would Ron do something like that? Harry wondered as he paced, trying not to wonder what was going on in the room.

He glanced at his wrist so often he thought it was broken with how slow it was moving. He finally walked around the corner and sat on the floor of the empty corridor, resting his head against the wall.

And finally, exactly 47 minutes later, Harry heard the door open.

"I'll go first," Michael whispered, "They'll go easier on me if I get caught."

"Okay," Ron responded, "Be careful."

Harry got to his feet and peered around the corner. Ron and Michael were standing close together, holding hands and kissing. Harry felt his blood start to boil. He watched Michael smile sadly and put his hand on Ron's face, gently running his thumb along Ron's bottom lip. Ron smiled at him, clearly relaxed, not like he was with Harry.

"You're amazing," Michael whispered, "Thank you, for coming tonight."

"Back at you" Ron replied cheekily, then chuckled, so did Michael, "I'm glad to see you smile."

"That's what you do to me," Michael said softly, he kissed Ron gently. "My sweet boy," he murmured, his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against Ron's.

Harry couldn't handle any more. He tore off the cloak and shoved it under his arm and stepped around the corner. Michael and Ron both looked up, startled.

"Your sweet boy," Harry snapped, "Cheated on you, Corner."

"Harry!" Ron whispered hoarsely, his eyes wide with terror.

Michael staggered away from Ron, looking at each of them in turn, his face falling completely.

"What's he talking about?" he asked, now keeping his gaze on Ron, his voice shaking.

"Mike…don't listen to him," Ron said quickly, "Just…don't. Please."

"He cheated on you," Harry repeated with a harsh laugh that hardly sounded like his own, and Michael now looked at him, "With me. A few times."

Ron let out a whimpering sound. "Mike…" He said, his voice thick with emotion, "It wasn't…it wasn't like that. He…you have to let me explain-"

Michael looked sick. And, to Harry's complete surprise, his eyes were rimmed with tears. When he looked at Ron, he noticed Ron's were too. Harry's insides squirmed. The silence was loud. Michael and Ron were now looking at each other.

"Why?"

The word escaped Michael's mouth just as a swinging light made its way down the hall, with the familiar sounds of Filch's limping footsteps, and the light tip-taps of Mrs. Norris's paws.

Ron stepped toward Michael and lightly touched his arm, but Michael tore it away.

"You're a good actor." He managed to spit out the words venomously, despite his quivering voice.

"What's going on down 'ere!" Filch's voice barked.

None of the boys moved. Harry quickly stuffed his invisibility cloak into the back of his jeans, under his sweater. Ron rushed to Michael's side, grabbing his arm again.

"Please, Mike…" He choked out, "Please, you have to listen-"

Mike just shook his head, pulling his arm away again. "Don't even try that with me. Don't try anything with me, ever."

The footsteps approached and Michael simply walked off and disappeared into the dark hallway. Harry strode over to Ron.

"We have to go," he said quietly, grabbing Ron's forearm, "I have the-"

Ron wrenched his arm away and gave Harry the darkest look he ever had throughout their entire friendship.

"Do not ever fucking touch me again."

[][][][][][][]

Ron never returned to the dormitory that night. But Harry knew he had simply stayed in the common room. Harry also knew, or at least assumed, that Ron had gotten no sleep, because he certainly hadn't. He was surprised at just how guilty he felt. He should have never done things like that. He couldn't care less about hurting Michael, but he had made Ron angry. And when Ron was angry he was notorious for holding a grudge.

Harry also couldn't believe Ron had slept with Michael. He had actually gone through with it.

Harry groaned and sat up. He had not even slept for a minute. Ignoring Dean, Seamus, and Neville, he did not bother changing, since he was still in school clothes from yesterday, and headed downstairs. But it appeared Ron had already left. Harry was not surprised. But he couldn't help wondering if Ron had tried to go to the hospital wing to talk to Michael.

As difficult as it was, Harry knew he shouldn't go there. From what had transpired, he felt Michael was probably in no mood to listen to anything Ron would say. At least he had done away with that.

"Harry!" called a voice as he mindlessly made his way to the Great Hall.

He turned and saw Hermione making her way to him through the throngs of other students.

"Hermione," Harry breathed, realizing he was relieved, "Hey, I'm sorry I didn't wait. I didn't really sleep well, wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," Hermione replied with a smile, then she looked past him and frowned, "What's wrong with Ginny?"

Harry turned and saw Ginny pushing her way down the hallway speedily, very obviously fuming. Her face Weasley-Red, and hair trailing behind her in great waves. As she approached it felt like Harry could practically smell her anger, and he somehow knew that Ron had probably ran into her that morning.

"Ginny," Harry said carefully, "I-"

And then she slapped him. Hard. So hard he staggered backwards. Hermione shrieked in surprise, and a few other students gasped. Ginny glowered at Harry, breathing heavily through her nose, almost like a bull.

"You know why," she spat, enunciating each word heavily.

And with that she walked away. Harry watched her, and in the distance he saw Ron, looking absolutely wrecked. His sister caught up with him and they walked down the hall together. Everyone around Harry and Hermione began whispering so loudly it sounded like a jar of cicadas had been released in the hall.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, she grasped his chin and examined his face with a concerned expression, but it appeared no damage had been done, "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, "It's fine." He reached up to touch where Ginny had slapped him, it was already tender, and still very hot.

"Harry," Hermione admonished, "Ginny just hit you. What happened?"

Harry exhaled sharply. Then decided on a very simple answer to the very broad issue that had arised.

"Ron…sort of….kissed me."

Not completely a lie.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, a look of complete and utter shock and confusion on her face.

Harry managed to spin a tale that included Ron being drunk at the Gryffindor party, Ron mistaking him for Michael, and throwing himself at Harry. Hermione seemed to buy it, though her brow was furrowed the entire time she was listening, and did not speak for the rest of their walk to the Great Hall.

None of Harry's day went by any better. Two facts were known by the majority of Hogwarts: Ron and Michael had broken up, and Ginny had smacked the living daylights out of Harry. However, the rumor mill was at full tilt. Everyone, everyone, was curious about how the two were connected.

It was not shocking to Harry that neither Ron nor Ginny showed up to quidditch practice that evening. And, not wanting to really run a practice or even having the energy to, Harry canceled it. But once he was left alone in the locker room, he decided to take refuge there. He slid to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead on them.

He just. Wanted. Ron. Back.

Maybe he had hurt people in the process. But it had to be done. He could hurt Ron, because he could fix it. He could always make it up to Ron. Michael was only unfortunate because his grandfather died, but he was getting away for a week, he had time to work through it.

Harry must have drifted off at some point because when he heard the door slam, echoing through the locker room, he startled wildly, his glasses sliding off his face. He readjusted them and looked around.

"Oh," he said, quickly standing.

"How could you do that to me?"

Ron did not look as angry as he had earlier, or the night before. He looked tired. And…just…sad. Like he had given up.

"I did it for you," Harry replied.

They stared at each other for several seconds. Harry could not handle the silence much longer, or the tension. In 4 swift steps Harry had Ron in his hands yet again. But as soon as their lips found each other, Ron had pushed him off. They stared, and only moments later Ron shook his head, muttering a single word:

"Fuck."

He closed the gap between them and grabbed Harry by the shirt roughly, kissing him. He soon felt Ron guiding him backwards and this time, it was Harry who shoved him away.

"I don't think so," he said. Ron looked confused now. "You don't control me." Harry planted his lips once again on his best friend, gripping his waist and pushing him back. Instead of guiding him to a wall, he guided him to the wooden benches in the middle of the room. When the backs of Ron's legs hit them he immediately allowed Harry to push him down. Harry propped one leg on the bench between both of Ron's and kept one on the floor as he sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt as he stared down at Ron, who was watching him intently.

"Say it again," Ron whispered as Harry threw his shirt to the side and lowered back down to inches from Ron's face.

"Say what?" Harry asked, placing one hand on the bench beside Ron's head and lowering the other to begin unbuttoning Ron's shirt.

"Say I'm yours," Ron replied in a small voice, "Tell me again. I want to hear it."

Harry paused his unbuttoning and immediately grasped Ron's face, unable to keep from kissing him. When he heard the sweet, whining noise he had longed for he paused just long enough to say,

"You're mine."

As they brought their lips back together, Harry worked frantically at Ron's shirt again. He felt Ron's hands on his back, nails clawing at his skin. When Ron paused to catch his breath, Harry yanked him up by his now open shirt and tore it off him, taking a moment to eye his friends perfectly toned chest and stomach. Ron placed his hands on the back of Harry's neck and dipped his head to kiss along his collar bone, down to his chest, murmuring,

"Say it again."

Harry couldn't contain the growl that escaped his throat, which Ron's lips attached to next, finding a spot that made Harry moan quietly before he started sucking and biting at it.

"You're mine," Harry said firmly, placing a hand on the back of Ron's head, "You always will be."

The feeling of Ron's hot breath on his neck was almost too much. He grasped hard at Ron's hair and tilted his head back, he looked into Ron's desperate eyes.

"But you fucked Michael Corner," he said, his tone almost taunting.

Ron's gaze dropped, but with one small tug at his hair his eyes flicked back up. "I didn't," he whispered, "I…I couldn't."

As soon as Ron said this Harry let out a sigh of relief, and a chuckle as he immediately kissed him. "Good," he murmured against Ron's lips, "Good boy."

"Yeah?" Ron whispered, almost sounded entranced.

"Yes," Harry said, biting his bottom lip sharply and earning a moan in response, which went straight to Harry's groin. Harry grasped at Ron's belt, his fingers fumbling in impatience, and he hesitated for a brief moment when he felt Ron's hands working on his own.

"So much for not wanting me to touch you, hm?" Harry asked teasingly, sliding Ron's belt off in one fluid motion. It clattered to the floor, and his soon followed.

"Touch me," Ron whispered, sliding his hands along Harry's sides, making him shiver involuntarily, "Make me forget."

"Forget what?" Harry asked, his mind going fuzzy with Ron's touch.

"Forget I ever loved someone else."

Harry froze, momentarily in shock. That had been the first time Ron had admitted to loving Michael. Ron looked slightly scared, as though he knew he had said something wrong. Harry stood from the bench, looking down at him. Then he said,

"Take off your pants."

In a flurry, pants, underwear, and socks were stripped off and tossed aside. Ron rested back on the bench on his elbows, one leg propped up and the other on the floor, he watched Harry take his position in the middle of his legs. He looked slowly over Ron's body, taking in the perfectly angled V of muscle, down to the tufts of red hair surrounding a rather large, semi-hard member. Harry felt his heart rate increase as he saw Ron taking in his body with a similar look of hunger.

Harry brought his hand to his own erection and stroked it, sending shocks throughout his body. He hadn't realized how excited he actually was. Ron watched him intently, eyes following his hand going up and down.

"I'll help you forget," Harry said quietly, he noticed Ron growing steadily larger and stiffer. Harry let go of his now leaking, very hard cock and edged closer to him. With one hand he firmly pushed Ron all the way back on the bench. Keeping his eyes locked on the red heads, Harry brushed their erections together, making Ron gasp and moan. Harry repeated the motion, enjoying both the feeling and Ron's response. Ron's eyes closed and he bit his lip. Harry slid a hand up his chest and around his throat, then slipped two fingers into his hot, moist mouth. Instinctively, Ron sucked, opening his eyes again and his tongue swirling around the digits.

Harry slid the fingers out of his mouth and brought them all the way down to Ron's toned ass. Harry nudged one of Ron's legs to give himself more access to the tight entrance, and with the two wet fingers he traced circles around it.

"Merlin…" Ron groaned, hips bucking, his hands clutched the sides of the bench, nails digging into the wood as Harry teased his hole, pushing his fingers against it but not sliding them in.

Harry chuckled, his unoccupied hand wrapped around the base of Ron's cock, stroking it. Ron's hips bucked again, arching his back and hands clutching the bench even tighter. It was then that Harry finally inserted his fingers, groaning at the heat and tightness.

"Oh fuck…bloody hell…fuck…st-stop…wait…" Ron sputtered, gasping and breathing heavily.

"We're already there," Harry murmured softly, "Just relax…there you go. Good boy." He slowly thrust his fingers, watching Ron's face. His eyes squeezed shut and he looked uncomfortable, but it seemed the more Harry spoke, the more Harry praised him, the more relaxed he got. "Good job, love," he cooed, feeling Ron relax around his fingers, "I want you to be ready for me. You want to be nice and open for me, yeah?" He scissored his fingers and shoved them deeper, causing Ron to cry out.

"Yes!" He choked out, eyes flying open and looking at Harry, "Yes, yes…Harry, please…please say it again."

Harry stopped his motions on Ron's cock to place a hand on the bench beside Ron's head, he bent down and kissed him.

"You're mine," he said, he would say it all night long if Ron asked him to, he loved it, loved reminding him, "No one else's. You belong to me."

He kissed Ron again, removing his fingers and stroking his own cock again. He sat up, enjoying the flushed, sweaty, and hungry look on Ron's face. They were both breathing heavily now. Harry brought a hand up to his mouth and licked it, and brought it back down to wet the tip of his cock, which he positioned at the entrance he'd prepared, which fluttered open with every deep breath Ron took.

"Mine," Harry repeated as he shoved his entire length into Ron, who seemed to cry out, gasp, and moan all at once.

Harry grasped Ron's hips, using them as leverage to thrust ruthlessly. Ron flung an arm over his face, partially muffling his cries. Harry would have liked to hear them, but given their location he knew Ron had the right idea. Harry was having a hard time stifling his own groans. He could feel a familiar sensation building in his tightening balls, but he wanted to hold back. He took a deep breath and slowed his thrusting, Ron's moans grew softer, his back arching gently. He uncovered his face, both hands grasped at Harry's forearms. They locked eyes.

"Again…" Ron whispered, his nails digging into Harry's flesh, "Please…"

"Bloody hell, Ron," Harry groaned, almost cumming at the tone of Ron's voice, his balls tightened warningly. But he wasn't going to cum until Ron had. "You're fucking mine," he growled, picking up his pace again, Ron's eyes glazed over and his lips parted. "You belong to me." He gave a particularly hard thrust. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Ron whimpered, digging so hard into Harry's arms now that he was sure he was drawing blood.

"Say it!" Harry barked at him, thrusting so erratically his thighs were burning from the position, "Say it."

"Ah!" Ron gasped, "I-I'm yours." He let go of Harry's arms and began clutching the bench again, but their eyes remained locked.

"Who do you belong to?" Harry demanded, his vision was blurring with pleasure, and sweat was dripping down his face.

"You," Ron said breathlessly, "I belong to-fuck-you!" his back arched again and one of his hands drifted toward his dripping cock. Harry slapped his hand.

"No," he growled between pants, "You…you don't get to do that…oh fuck…" He groaned, he was struggling to hold back.

Ron whined, closing his eyes and bucking his hips, his legs were shaking. "Please," he begged helplessly, "Please, I need to."

"You shut up and look at me."

Ron immediately closed his mouth and opened his eyes.

"Good boy," Harry praised. Ron's lips pursed in an effort to keep quiet. "Look at you, such an obedient boy. How obedient can you be?" Harry reached for his cock and began stroking. Ron squirmed underneath him from the pleasure. "You can cum when I tell you to."

Ron's eyes widened but he nodded. Harry smirked at him. He worked Ron's cock up and down in tune with his thrusts, enjoying the struggle on Ron's face, and the way he kept squirming. Ron choked back a moan.

"Ah, ah," Harry teased, "Not yet." But only moments later Ron gasped out a shuddering breath, and Harry felt the warmth of his cum on his hand. Harry raised his eyebrows at him.

"I'm sorry," Ron whimpered, breathing rapidly, "I-I…"

Harry shook his head, but instead of speaking his grasped Ron's hips and slammed into him harder than he had. Ron quickly flung his arm over his face again and he screamed in surprise, pain, and pleasure. That was all Harry needed to finish himself off, holding Ron in place as every breath he heaved sent another stream of his seed into his friend.

Harry stayed inside of him until he was completely flaccid. Both of them catching their breath, looking at each other. Harry finally slid out and Ron sat up, touching Harry's arm lightly.

"Do you forgive me?" Harry asked, looking over at him.

"No," Ron responded, "Not really. But…if you're going to do something like that every time I fall in love…then…" He sighed and rested his forehead on Harry's shoulder, "I'll be yours."

Harry kissed the top of Ron's head, wrapping an arm around him.

"Good."

Fin~

I'm back with my unhappy endings! Let me know what you all thought of this one. Any feedback helps. Special shout out to my favorite fan, you know who you are ;)