Ron Weasley had absolutely nothing but support and respect for what was known in the Muggle world as the LGBT community. Well, most of the time, it was more that he took a position of if it didn't hurt anyone, especially him or his friends, he didn't really care. If boys wanted to date boys or girls wanted to date girls, it wasn't any skin off his nose. Hell, what did he care if Hagrid wanted to date one of his blast-ended skrewts? (So long as Ron didn't have to see it, of course.) Ron was an uncomplicated bloke when all was said and done; not stupid by any means, but he didn't believe in complicating his life unnecessarily.

However, not everyone was so sanguine about the matter, as Ron found out to his dismay. Last year, Harry tearfully confessed to him that he had a horrid, disgusting dark secret. It had been a supreme letdown when that secret had turned out to be merely that Harry liked birds and blokes. With all the leadup, Ron had half-expected the secret to be that he'd killed and dismembered his atrocious relatives. Something, frankly, that Ron would heartily approve of after seeing the cruel way they treated Harry.

As it turned out, that hadn't been the only secret that Harry had been hiding. With enough self-flagellation to make even the Bloody Baron jealous, Harry had confessed that he had actually been suppressing a crush on Ron in the most melodramatic way possible. It had taken every ounce of Ron's self-control to avoid rolling his eyes at that. In all honesty, Ron was extremely flattered to hear Harry had a crush on him. It was a big boost to his self-confidence to realize he could be liked like that. However, he was not into blokes, and told Harry as much. Also, even if he had been, Ron thought of Harry as a brother, almost entirely literally.

Ron had been worried that Harry's confession would make matters awkward between them, but it seemed to do the exact opposite. With a firm but kind rejection, Harry was able to put it aside and interact with Ron just as normally as before, maybe even more so. Unfortunately, something infinitely worse happened instead: Harry started to develop a crush on Malfoy.

Of course, Harry was in denial. Who wouldn't be, frankly? But even Hermione could see it and she'd, in retrospect, been spending the whole year on the verge of a mental breakdown from usage of the Time Turner, and also was absolutely pants at figuring out anything social. With Malfoy actually acting civil and cordial, Harry's rants about him changed from sensible diatribes about what a bully he was to diatribes about how unfair it was he made his hair looked so wavy and beautiful or how his stupid cheekbones were a constant distraction on the Quidditch field.

Ron was adamantly against the idea of Harry getting together with Malfoy. Okay, sure, even Ron had to admit that Malfoy had probably become a better person. But it was hard to reconcile that with the fact that Malfoy had once constantly made fun of Ron's family, threw racial slurs at Hermione on a regular basis, and flat out said he wanted Hermione to die. True, he hadn't done any of that recently (except for the whole altercation about Ron's dress robes, and frankly Malfoy was in the right there for once), but it was not something Ron could easily forget. Not to mention that even if Malfoy was as pure as the driven snow now, his father was still a top Death Eater and had almost gotten Ginny killed. If Harry dated Malfoy, both of their lives could be in legitimate danger.

Ron had made it his personal mission to ensure Harry and Malfoy never got together. His first move was to try to set Harry up with Cedric Diggory. Ron knew Harry had a little bit of a thing for Cedric too. And why not? Half the school seemed to have a crush on the Hufflepuff seeker. Heck, even Ron had a tiny bit of one on him himself, and he was as straight as a line. Drop-dead gorgeous, sweet, and impeccably kind, what more did you want? Unfortunately, Harry's attempt to ask out Cedric proved to be a failure, as Cedric was straight, so Ron was back to the drawing board.

Harry's alarming crush on Malfoy, however, wasn't the biggest problem Ron had to face right now. No, the biggest problem was the fact that his mother appeared have completely lost her mind. Mum's mental state had been deteriorating ever since the debacle of the Chamber of Secrets, but it had reached improbable new heights over the summer, dangerous ones. Before this summer, Ron had thought Mum's mental state was pretty bad. She'd become much more angry than before, shouting regularly at her children and going on long rants at the drop of a hat. Gone was the loving, caring mother Ron had grown up with. Now she was some sort of harpy like hybrid, hopefully not literally.

But when Ginny had come out as liking just girls just after they returned from the Quidditch World Cup, Mum had gone absolutely ballistic. She'd gone on a gigantic, incoherent rant at the top of her lungs about how Ginny was "destined to be Lady Potter" one day and how ungrateful Ginny was, and how Headmaster Dumbledore had signed a marriage contract for them and how she was a disgrace to the family. She had probably said more, but Ron had been literally deafened by her yelling at that point. Ginny had ran off not too much longer after that. She went to stay with their neighbors, the Lovegoods, and didn't return for the rest of the summer.

Ron had tried to get Dad to intervene, but as always, trying to get Dad to take anyone's side over Mum's was like banging your head against a brick wall, but less effective. Dad spent much of his time in his shed, tinkering with Muggle artifacts. Not that Ron blamed him much; he would have done the same thing if Dad had let him, which he wouldn't. He was so passive and uncaring about the whole matter that some suspicious part of Ron's mind wondered if Mum had Dad under some sort of spell. But even after everything, Ron didn't want to believe such a thing was possible.

Even back at Hogwarts, Ron wasn't free from his mother's bout of madness, as she sent Howlers on a regular basis. It got to the point where Ginny didn't even take her meals in the main hall anymore for fear of receiving a homophobic tirade. Professor McGonagall had promised to handle the matter when Ron brought it up to her. Then after way too long with no action, he brought the matter up to her again, only to discover to his horror that she had no memory of the previous conversation. She was just as indignant the second time around, but Ron decided it wasn't worth it to try again.

So all in all, Ron had thrown himself into being the most supportive ally possible to both Harry and especially Ginny. He'd served detention for punching Theodore Nott, who seemed to have stepped into Malfoy's role as bully in Malfoy's absence, for making homophobic comments to Ginny. He'd tried to set up Ginny with a Hufflepuff girl who the rumor mill said Ginny had a crush on, only to receive a stern warning from Ginny never to meddle in her love life again and then a hug for trying to do something nice for her. (The rumor mill had turned out to be utterly wrong; nonetheless, Ginny had gone on a date with the Hufflepuff and then decided they were better as friends.)

Despite Ron's problems, he was starting to think the year wouldn't be too problematic or at least not put them in any mortal peril right up until Harry's name had come out of that damn goblet. Ron was deeply embarrassed to admit it, but he'd genuinely thought Harry had put his name in the goblet at the time. The whole evening, as the party dragged on without Harry making an appearance, Ron had stewed in his jealousy and anger. Not only had Harry put his name in the goblet, but he hadn't even bothered to tell his best mate!

However, in the cold light of day the next morning, he realized just how dumb that idea was. Harry was no attention seeking brat. The rumors that he admitted to putting his name in the goblet were clearly just made up. Harry wouldn't put himself in mortal danger deliberately. Okay, that was a bald-faced lie; he did that sort of thing all the time, but he'd never do it for fame. Harry was the most famous man in Britain; he didn't need more fame.

But Harry was strutting around as arrogantly as Malfoy the next day and happily bragging to the people at the Gryffindor table that he'd indeed put his name in the goblet with a Patronus. Everyone believed him, even Hermione, who repeatedly berated him for being so irresponsible. It just didn't make any sense at all. Was there some disease going around that was making people act so wildly out of character, Ron wondered?

And now Malfoy was charging at the table like he was some sort of minotaur, a look of fury on his face, and Ron couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Things were going back to normal! Unfortunately, the bottom dropped out of his stomach when he saw the look on Harry's face. He was looking at Malfoy like he was a particularly succulent steak, even licking his lips. A few girls and even one or two boys were blushing just looking at that expression.

"ARE YOU OUT OF WHAT'S LEFT OF YOUR MIND, POTTER?!"

"Hey, Draco," Harry said in a tone oozing seductiveness as he got up from the table and stood uncomfortably close – well, Ron was uncomfortable, at any rate – to Malfoy. "What's got you all worked up?"

"You're insane," Malfoy decided. Ron scowled. Only he got to call Harry insane. He knew Harry was insane through years of careful observation; Malfoy was just guessing. "That's the only possible explanation. Or maybe it's all just a rumor and you didn't actually do something as spectacularly dumb as putting your name in the Goblet of Fire."

Harry smirked. It was a bizarre expression to see on the usually perennially humble Harry's face. Ron didn't like it at all. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, handsome." HANDSOME?! Oh, this was so epically bad! Harry was deliberately flirting with Malfoy now. Ron had to do something! "But I did it. I put my name in the Goblet of Fire. I, a fourth year student, managed to confound a centuries old magical artifact of unparalleled power with nothing more than my special Boy Who Lived magic."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "You…you're having me on, then," he said. Harry winked. Much to Ron's horror, Draco started blushing at that. "You're just taking the piss with everyone. Look, Harry, you need to take this seriously."

Harry shrugged. "I don't see why."

Draco gave him a look that clearly indicated he thought Harry was the dumbest person in the universe. "Harry, you don't understand the consequences of breaking the binding magical contract of the Goblet of Fire, do you?"

"I lose my magic or something. I mean, that'd suck, but look at how much danger I get into around here. Maybe I'd be safer in the Muggle world."

"It's not your magic the goblet takes, Harry," Draco said quietly. "It's your soul."

Harry opened his mouth, grabbed Draco by the hand, and dragged him out of the hall. Ron followed. This would not end in snogging if he had any say in the matter. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet," he admitted.

"I thought so," Ron told him. "You're not the type."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Seriously? I kind of thought you'd hop onto the bandwagon."

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well, maybe last night I would have, but I've had time to think since then." He waited for Harry to lash out at him, but Harry just nodded. He'd probably expected that. Ron would have to work on that.

"Look, I don't know who put my name in that goblet," Harry said. "What I do know is that no one will believe I didn't put it in, so I figured I might as well go along with it. This way, at least Gryffindor has my back."

"Maybe you should just not participate," Ron suggested. "I mean, come on. If you could just make someone be in a magical contract without their consent, then wouldn't people be doing it all the time?"

Harry shook his head. "I'd take the chance with losing my magic, heck, maybe even my life, but not my soul." He shuddered, no doubt remembering the Dementors. "I've got to be honest with you: I don't think I'm gonna survive this."

Ron just looked down at the floor. He couldn't help but agree with Harry, even if he really, really didn't want to. The chances of surviving the Triwizard Tournament weren't extremely high even before one took into account the possibility of sabotage from their mysterious enemy. "We'll get you through this," he vowed. "Hermione and I will make sure of it."

"Me too," Malfoy promised. "You could use some good, old fashioned Slytherin cunning on your side."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "What's in it for you?"

Malfoy coughed. "Hey, maybe I just wanna be your friend?"

"Or maybe more than –"

"OKAY, THEN!" Ron suddenly shouted. If he had to hear Harry flirt with Malfoy yet again, he was worried he might hurl. "I think we've established what's going on here, and we need to get back to breakfast."

"See you in potions, Draco," Harry said, blowing Malfoy a kiss as he walked back into the Great Hall.

"You're not seriously interested in Malfoy, are you?" Ron said desperately. "I mean, he's a total git! You could do better with literally anyone! I mean, if it's Slytherins you're into, I hear Millicent Bulstrode is looking for a boyfriend…"

Harry burst out laughing. He had a nice laugh, in Ron's opinion. It was a shame that he didn't use it more often, and an even bigger shame there were many, many reasons why he didn't. "Don't be daft, Ron. I'm just flirting with random people for the hell of it. Flirted with Fleur and Krum yesterday too."

"Just don't flirt with Hermione. I don't think my heart can take that."

Harry slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Ron. She's all yours – when you get the guts to make a move."

Ron scowled at him, but they'd reached the table before he could come up with a retort. He never should have confided his epic crush on Hermione to Harry, because since the school year had started, Harry had been trying to set them up together. Thank Merlin Hermione was completely oblivious. Hell, Ron could probably start making out with her and she still wouldn't get it, though as tempting as that idea was, it probably was best not to chance it. Ron had been trying to work up the courage to ask Hermione out for ages, but he was, well…well, not scared, of course. It's just if it crashed and burned, it could do irreparable damage to their friendship, and right now, that friendship was the reason Harry was still alive.

Thankfully, Harry didn't flirt as much with Malfoy for the rest of the day. This turned out to be because Harry – perhaps in an effort to persuade himself his transparent excuse was true or perhaps just because he was trying to keep to his new image – decided to flirt with just about everyone the same year or a year younger or older than him. Hell, Ron was pretty certain he even flirted with Crabbe a little and just the thought of that made him want to hurl. But when anyone flirted back, Harry was quick to find an excuse to leave…which he hadn't done with Malfoy.

After quite a bit of pestering, Ron finally managed to persuade Hermione to stage an intervention for Harry. He hadn't quite intended for her to stun Harry and tie him up in an empty classroom.

When Hermione awoke Harry, he gave a roguish grin at her. Ron was really starting to hate that damn expression. "Well, this is how some of my dreams have started," he said with a wink. Ron glared ferociously at him. "Right, sorry! I forgot. Off-limits. Got it. Crystal clear!"

"Harry, we're not angry at you," Hermione said in the gentlest voice she possessed. "We're just very concerned about your welfare. We want to talk to you about something uncomfortable and, well, you have a tendency to avoid uncomfortable topics." She leaned down so she was at eye level with him. "Have you ever thought about hurting yourself, Harry?"

That was…an odd metaphor for a relationship with Malfoy in Ron's opinion, but he could see from a certain point of view that could describe it. "What?" Harry said, sounding stunned and appalled. "Of course not!"

"Harry, we won't judge you if you have," Hermione promised. "I know your relatives are positively beastly, and you spent the better part of last year surrounded by literal avatars of depression. And you've been in so much danger…I really do understand the temptation of deciding when it ends, going out in a blaze of glory."

Ron stared at her. "You think Harry's suicidal?!"

Hermione blinked. "Is that not why we're here?"

"We're here to stage an intervention about him and Malfoy!" Ron practically screamed. "He's not going to off himself, Hermione!"

"But…he put his name in the goblet," Hermione said slowly, sounding as if this wasn't computing. It was very difficult for Hermione to move onto a new train of thought sometimes, Ron had found.

"I lied, Hermione!" Harry spat at her, sounding like he'd lost all patience. Ron could hardly blame him. He'd feel the exact same way in his shoes. "I wanted to convince the Ministry to try to get me out of it by humiliating them."

Hermione blinked a couple of times. "Oh. Oh, that's actually quite clever of you. Were you anyone else, of course, it'd win you a ticket to Azkaban, but I don't think there's enough political will to send you there, most likely." Ron did not like the fact she could not say that with absolute certainty. "Oh, well, then this whole thing was a misunderstanding. Why do you have a problem with Draco and Harry? I think they'd make a cute couple."

Was Ron the only sane person in the world? Had everyone just forgotten what a misery Malfoy had made everyone's lives? What Malfoy Sr. had done to Ron's sister? He hoped not. It was a sad state of affairs when Ron was the only sane individual in the room. That was Hermione's job. "He hates Muggles and Muggleborns and he especially hates you!"

"COULD YOU BLOODY UNTIE ME?!" Harry shouted out of absolutely nowhere, causing Ron and Hermione to jump.

Ron sheepishly dispelled Hermione's ropes. "Sorry about that, mate."

"Look, don't tell anyone, but I've…I've actually spent some time with Malfoy this year," Hermione admitted.

They stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. "What?" Harry said after at least fifteen seconds had passed.

"We ran into each other at the movies," Hermione explained. Well, tried to explain. Ron was just becoming more confused with every word she said and while he was no intellectual, he was reasonably certain this was not, in fact, the mark of a successful explanation. "And he keeps on asking questions about Muggles, so sometimes, we meet up and talk about them. Culture, politics, history."

"What?" Harry said again, looking just as stupefied as before. "Where?"

"Neutral ground," Hermione assured them. "Ginny's friend Luna lets us use the Ravenclaw common room. I'm not dumb enough to waltz into the Slytherin common room or give him our password, of course. They have the most fascinating library. Makes me wish I hadn't convinced the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor."

Harry and Ron shared an exceedingly confused look. "He's really making an effort to be a better person, I think," Hermione said. "As bizarre as that sounds. I think I could actually approve of you dating him, Harry. Though, of course, if he so much as makes you even the teensiest bit sad, I'm going to literally give him a death of a thousand cuts."

Harry laughed softly. "Look, the two of you have to relax. While Draco can actually be quite the charming bloke when he makes an effort, I'm not going to be dating him anytime soon. I've got too much on my plate right now, anyway. Maybe when I'm not in mortal peril." Ron breathed a sigh of relief. At that rate, Harry would never be dating Malfoy! This was the best news he'd had all day, literally.

Satisfied that at the very least the catastrophe that would be Malfoy and Harry dating was averted for the moment, Ron was able to spend the rest of the day much more relaxed than before. Well, as relaxed as he could be when his best friend had been entered into a death tournament. They would have to figure out precisely what the tasks of the tournament was – perhaps Percy would help him if he could finally manage to get his head out of his arse – and how to make sure Harry survived them. Winning was entirely optional, and frankly, Ron was in favor of any method that got the tasks over with as quickly as possible, regardless if they left Harry victorious or not.

As he had done every day since arriving at Hogwarts, at precisely 1:17 AM, Ron awoke, grabbed Harry's Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk, and sneaked out of the room. By this point, he'd become entirely adept at evading the patrolling prefects and students. He walked over to the headmaster's office, his head entirely devoid of thoughts, and gave the password to the gargoyle. He didn't remember what it was before he said it and he didn't remember what it was after he said it, yet in the moment, he remembered with crystalline clarity.

Ron ascended the spiral staircase and looked, his face vacant and expressionless, into the face of Headmaster Dumbledore. He felt nothing at all. It was as if he was dead inside.

"Ah, young Weasley, sit down, sit down, my boy," Dumbledore said, his voice smug and entirely different from how it normally sounded. Ron sat down. The idea of not sitting down, like many other ideas, like what he was doing in the office in the first place, simply didn't occur to him. "Do you know what the best power is, my boy?"

"No, sir," Ron said, his voice dull and wooden and lifeless.

"The best power is the kind no one knows you have," Dumbledore said. "The best power is the kind that you can use like a knife, and then return to its sheath, invisible from view. The best kind of power is the power I have over you." Ron said nothing. He never did unless prompted. "Tell me, my boy, what would you do for me?"

"Anything, sir," Ron promptly said.

Dumbledore sighed. "So if I asked you to betray your best friend…?"

A spike of pain enveloped Ron's head. It was so intense he thought his head might explode for a few seconds. Under ordinary circumstances, he would grab his hands and clutch his head, but he didn't move a single muscle. He just sat there like a statue while pain flared in every corner of his mind. "My boy, forget I said that," Dumbledore said, and the pain dissipated as Ron forgot.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and gave a satanic grin. "Have a lemon drop, my boy."

Ron took a lemon drop from the ornate glass tray on the headmaster's desk and put it in his mouth. A warm, fuzzy feeling of contentment, like he was floating on a cloud, flowed through him. "Now tell me everything important you know regarding Mr. Potter, my boy."

Ron went on a long diatribe about just how eminently unsuitable Malfoy was to be Harry's boyfriend and how Harry deserved to be with someone who wasn't, you know, sympathetic to mass murderers. His best friend deserved no one but the best! Oh, and also he revealed that Harry really hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, but in Ron's opinion, that was hardly as important.

Dumbledore rolled his eyes and said something in a language Ron didn't recognize. Then he placed a letter opener on the desk. "You know, I was wondering something earlier today…a little experiment, if you will. Would you like to be my test subject, my boy?"

"I'll do anything you ask, sir."

Dumbledore smirked. "Very good. Slit your wrist open, my boy."

Ron picked up the letter opener and sliced open his right wrist with expert precision. With utter impassivity, he watched the blood flow out of his wrist for what felt like a very long time. Unlike the pain inside of his mind earlier, Ron didn't feel the slightest amount of pain. It was like his pain receptors were completely dead.

"Yes, that'll do," Dumbledore said after Ron's vision started to get blurry. He waved his wand and Ron suddenly felt fine again. The wound closed, the blood replenished. There was no evidence it had ever occurred in the first place. "Well, I think this is very useful. Thank you for your time, Mr. Weasley. Now as ever, return to your dorm and forget you ever left it, my boy."

Ron shuffled out of the room without saying a word and returned to his dorm. There was a squeak of floorboards as Seamus got up to use the bathroom and stared at him. "What are you doing with Harry's cloak?"

"Obliviate," Ron cast, his voice completely calm, and Seamus's eyes went unfocused as Ron deleted the incriminating memory from his mind. Then he climbed back into bed and nodded off, content with the knowledge that everything was perfectly fine.

And as long as he listened to the headmaster, it always would be.