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Chapter 2

Ginny had woken the next morning in a horrendous mood, to the point that she was snapping at anyone and everyone who dared cross her path. It was obvious that Harry's absence was the cause, but whenever someone — Ron, mostly — tried mentioning this, they got their head bitten off and were one word away from being hexed into next week.

It seemed that Hermione was the only one who could talk to her calmly, and by midday, the pair had agreed to try and find Harry. Like Ron, Hermione and Ginny seemed to think that he would have gone to Grimmauld Place, the only other home he really had, and were going to check there first.

"I really think you should give him a few days," Ron said to Hermione as she prepared to leave. They stood in the Burrow's garden, out of sight from any windows with their prying eyes. "He was pretty mad yesterday."

"I know," Hermione said, frowning. "I tried to suggest that, but Ginny needs him, I think. She's worried for him. I think she needs to know, regardless of how he responds, where she stands. She thought they were together, but now he's taken off..."

"Be careful," Ron warned.

Hermione smiled up at him, nodding. "I will. I mean, it's Harry. The worst he'll do is yell at us to leave, and we'll leave. Then once he's calmed down, he'll come and find us, and we'll be here."

Ron reached for her hand, squeezing it, just as Ginny rounded the corner.

"You two done?" she snapped, hardly looking at them. "We should probably get going."

"Good luck," Ron said as Hermione passed him to go to Ginny.

Hermione's absence was an unexpected blessing for Ron, as it gave him time to think more clearly about how he was going to approach everything with her tonight. It was a pleasant distraction from everything else happening, but as each hour wore on, he couldn't control the gradual nerves that were creeping up on him. Oh, how he wanted to get it right!

Telling anyone was the last thing he wanted to do, but when it became apparent he was fairly clueless on the subject of sex, he decided he needed to talk to someone, and that someone was going to be Bill. Even if everyone wasn't feeling the strain of war, even if Fred was still alive and things were normal, he probably would have Floo'd to Shell Cottage before he talked to any of his other siblings. Percy would give far too practical advice, under normal circumstances George would have laughed at him endlessly, and Charlie… well, Ron was pretty confident that Charlie's experience with women was even less than his own, so that wouldn't have been useful at all.

So Bill it was.

Once Hermione and Ginny had gone, he found his eldest brother in the kitchen with Fleur, the two drying dishes by hand — something many of them had found useful to pass the long days.

For a moment, he stood there watching the pair. Bill looked up and smiled. "Anything we can help you with, Ron?" he asked.

"Er… yes. Can I ask you something?" Ron looked nervously at Fleur, then turned back to his brother. "Alone?"

Bill and Fleur shared a look, and Fleur nodded. Bill set down the plate he'd been drying and followed Ron into the living room, which was thankfully deserted.

"What's up?" Bill asked, stopping just in front of Arthur's favourite armchair.

Ron swallowed, his heart quickening.

Misreading his expression, Bill said, "Is Harry alright? Hermione?"

Ron nodded. "As far as I know. No, it's not that. It's… last night, Hermione came to my room and…"

Bill raised an eyebrow, and Ron went extremely red.

"Nothing out of the ordinary from what I hear," Bill said, almost sounding amused.

"No, but, last night, she, er, suggested we…" Ron really wished he'd not even bothered asking now. It sounded so stupid.

"Right…" Bill said, seeming to catch on. "And you're not wanting to?"

Ron collapsed onto the armchair, running his hands over his face. "I want to, but I've got no idea what I'm doing, and knowing me, I'm going to do something wrong and I don't want to do that and I just… need help."

"Help?" Bill asked, sounding startled. "I'm not sure I can —"

"Advice. Help. Whatever you want to call it!" Ron said. He looked up at his brother, feeling suddenly desperate. "How do I not mess it up? I really like her — I love her — and I'm worried her expectations are a little too high and I… what do I do?"

"Well, firstly," Bill said, sitting on the arm of the armchair, "calm down."

Ron steadied his breathing. Or, tried to.

"Secondly, I'm sure it's going to be just fine. Haven't you had a girlfriend before? I just assumed you already had experience in that area."

"It's not the same," Ron said quickly. "Lavender and I never… we never got that far." He felt his ears burning. "Anyway, Hermione is far more special, and I want to make it as such."

"Okay," Bill said, nodding. He clapped Ron on the shoulder. "Well, the best advice I can give you is to relax, be yourself, and try to not panic. Easier said than done, I know. For the record — and you know her better than I do so I may be wrong — Hermione doesn't strike me as someone shallow. I think if she's brought it up, it's because she's interested in you, no expectations included."

Ron paled, suddenly feeling ill. He hoped Bill was right. "Thanks," he muttered.

"Just try not to dwell on it too much. That's probably the worst thing you can do. Sex isn't too daunting after awhile."

"Kissing is one thing," Ron said, "but this will completely ruin our friendship."

"I was under the impression you wanted more than friendship with her," Bill said.

"I do! I just meant… you know… there's no coming back from this."

Bill shrugged, and then to Ron's surprise, chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Ron demanded, thinking the situation was anything but funny.

"Nothing." Bill shook his head, but a smile remained. "Sometimes I just forget that even Ginny is basically of age. You're all growing up — my little brothers and sister." He stood. "Is that all, or are you after some practical tips…"

"No!" Ron said quickly. "But, er… thanks. I'll just try and… relax and not think about it."

That proved more difficult than ever as the day wore on. The closer the day came to ending, the more he thought about it until it all but consumed him. His emotions ebbed and flowed from excitement to nerves to feeling absolutely sick, and he was glad Hermione and Ginny had yet to return. It was the longest he'd been away from Hermione in months, but he thought even one touch from her right now might have tipped him over the edge.

It was nearing dinner time when she and Ginny finally returned. They came via the kitchen door while Ron was helping his brothers with preparing the food for that night's dinner. Ginny marched through the door first, tears streaming down her face. She said nothing as she walked past them and straight up the stairs. A moment later, they heard her bedroom door slam closed.

Hermione entered the kitchen looking rather upset. She cast a worried glance in the direction Ginny had disappeared in, and then gave a sad smile to Ron.

"You found him?" he asked.

She nodded, looking over at his brothers. "He was where we thought he'd be, and he behaved the way we expected. He's a mess, Ron, and…" She looked once again to where Ginny had gone, "he was quite horrible to her, actually."

In another day and time, Ron might have felt the urge to go over and tell Harry to pull his head in and stop treating his sister like she didn't understand, but he realised Ginny wasn't the issue. Harry was the issue.

"I told her he just needed to be left alone."

"I know," Hermione said sadly. "But I do think he might appreciate his best friend coming to see him. Maybe after dinner tonight you could —"

"Tonight?" Ron asked, unable to hide his disappointment. "But I thought…"

"I know," Hermione said again, her expression now one of guilt. "But I just think… you didn't see him, Ron. There was nothing I could do or say. Every time I tried, he just snapped, or he broke down. He yelled, he screamed, he cried, and we let him, until it became too much for Ginny and we left. But he listens to you, and I think… we have plenty more opportunities to…" she lowered her voice, "be together. Harry needs you now."

To Ron's surprise, his initial disappointment turned to relief. That gave him another night to prepare. He nodded. "I'll go after dinner, then."

Hermione smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him, but pulled back immediately as his parents entered the kitchen in that moment. If she'd been suspicious the night before, Ron was certain his mother had worked it out now based on the shocked way she was staring at him and Hermione.

Ron almost said something to her — he'd even opened his mouth — but a warning look from his dad had him closing it again.

"Did you and Ginny find Harry, dear?" Molly asked Hermione, her tone cool.

"Um… yes," Hermione said.

"And how is he? Is he planning on coming home soon?" Molly began busying herself with waving her wand to spread the plates across the table.

"I… I think he needs some time," Hermione said. "Just to himself. Ron is going over this evening to see him."

This seemed to cheer his mother up significantly, because she gave the first genuine smile she had in almost two weeks. "That's wonderful, Ron. I think he would really appreciate a friend right now."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I'll… I'll talk to him."

"If it's alright, I might go and shower before dinner. I feel like I need to freshen up." Hermione cast a nervous glance over at Molly, who had turned her attention to some pot plants that apparently needed watering.

Ron nodded encouragingly, assuring her not to worry. His mum liked Hermione, and Ron was certain that under different circumstances, she would have been pleased to know about them. But her actions towards him after the war — her coolness, her reluctance to speak to him more than necessary since learning he'd been out finding Horcruxes — told him that this would just be another excuse to go off at him and gripe at him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Once Hermione had disappeared, it took Molly all of three seconds to round on Ron. "I did wonder," she said stiffly. "I always thought… would have been nice to have been told… but surely, Ronald, right now is not an appropriate time to be… to be… you have a brother who is... gone, another who is refusing to come home, a best friend who could really use a shoulder to cry on, and —"

"And a girlfriend who happens to need me, too," Ron said, his voice as stiff as his mother's. He didn't want to get into an argument with her, but he wasn't going to stand back while she berated him for feeling some kind of happiness right now. All of his brothers had smiled at least once in the past few days. She just hadn't seen them. "And who I happen to need as well," he added as an afterthought.

"Come on, dear," Arthur said calmly. "Leave the boys to dinner. They've got it under control."

Although she looked far from happy, Molly obliged and left.

"Well, cat's out of the bag now," Bill said. "At least you don't have to keep it a secret anymore. If you ask me, she took it fairly well. Give her a month. She'll be marrying the two of you off soon."

Ron didn't say anything to that, but returned to setting charms on all the vegetables and their respective utensils. He very much doubted it would take just one month to recover. He'd been distracting himself from the pain by busying himself, but it was all still there, pushed away and bottled up somewhere. A month to get over seeing his own brother die? He doubted it.

…

Ron Floo'd to Grimmauld Place later that evening. Hermione had suggested it based on her own experience. If he was already in the house, Harry would be less likely to turn him away.

He found Harry upstairs, lying on the bed he'd slept on during the occasions they'd stayed here. He was a bigger mess than Hermione had given him credit for. His eyes were swollen and red, his hair more dishevelled than usual, and it looked like he hadn't slept since Ron had seen him yesterday morning.

's what he felt for Harry in that moment. He did not envy his best mate in the slightest.

Without a word, he sat on the edge of the bed. Harry didn't tell him to go away, which was a good sign, but he didn't speak either. Ron counted the minutes on his watch; twenty-two minutes they sat together in silence until he could no longer take it.

"If you're wondering, Ginny's going to be alright. She was upset, but she understands."

Harry said nothing.

"And Hermione's okay, too. She's worried about you. We both are."

Again, silence.

Ron fiddled with a loose thread on the bed spread. He looked at Harry over and over, hoping there'd be some kind of response, but he got nothing.

"Listen, mate, I just want to know if you're alright. That's all. And I'm here to talk if you want that. If not, then that's fine, but I'm not leaving until I know you're alright."

"I'm fine," Harry mumbled. "You can go."

"Not until I know you're alright," Ron repeated. "For the record, those journalists you went off at yesterday, they deserved it. No one thinks you did anything wrong. You told them repeatedly to leave you alone."

"Ginny and Hermione didn't deserve it, though, did they?" Harry said.

"No, but… they'll be okay."

For the first time, Harry looked at Ron. There was pain there; a lot of pain that only time could heal. "I'm a mess."

"Completely understandable," Ron said. "I'd be more worried if you weren't. I also don't blame you for wanting to be on your own, really. I came at Hermione's insistence."

"Always sticking her nose in places," Harry muttered bitterly, but before Ron could berate him for it, he gave a weak smile. "But as usual, I'm glad she did." He rubbed his face with his hands. "I'm glad you're here, I suppose. But I think for at least the next few days, I need to be on my own. Your family is great, but I'm not really in the mood for playing 'happy families' at the moment."

"It's far from happy families, mate, but I get it," Ron said. "Just do me a favour… let Ginny know where she stands with you. Even if it's not what she wants to hear. She loves you — we all do — and she understands, really, she does. But..."

Harry groaned, as if Ron had just asked him to jump off a bridge. "I will talk to her when I figure some things out."

Ron didn't bother to ask what Harry meant. Instead, he said, "The funerals start the day after tomorrow. Colin's first, then Fred's, then Lupin and Tonks, and then… it just goes on. You'll be at them won't you?"

Harry nodded.

"Media has been ordered by Kingsley — who's acting as Minister as of this morning — to stay away unless they wish to face severe punishment, so there shouldn't be an issue…"

"Yeah, I know." Harry sat up a little straighter on the bed and looked at Ron. Another small smile crossed his dull expression. "Thanks for coming. Even if I have been a bit of a jerk lately. I love your sister and Hermione, but I really appreciate you being here. Someone who won't try and tell me how to feel."

"Ha! I barely know how I'm feeling at the moment let alone trying to figure out how someone else is. They mean well, though."

"I know."

There was another silence, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as the first. There was a sadness, though. One they couldn't escape.

After a while, Ron said, "You should eat something. I should have brought something with me. I didn't realise how bad you actually were."

"Thanks."

"At least change your clothes." Ron looked down at the unopened bag by the bed. Ginny had brought it with her, and it obviously hadn't been received well. He picked it up and chucked it at Harry. "At least do that."

Harry caught the bag with half a smile and then threw it back, the bag hitting Ron in the shoulder. "Hermione has rubbed off on you with all your fussing."

"Well… she's right most of the time, you know, and I'm sure she's already told you the same thing when she was here."

"How'd you know that?"

Ron gave a sheepish smile. Then he stood up. "Speaking of, I should be heading back. I know the answer, but I'll ask anyway: you don't want to come back with me?"

"I just need some space," Harry said, shaking his head. "I think it will be better for everyone if I keep away for a few days. I'll… see you at the funeral."

Which one? Ron wanted to ask, but decided against it. Harry would be at all of them, he was certain.

Leaving a slightly brighter Harry, Ron descended the stairs and made his way back to the fireplace. He picked up the pot of Floo Powder, scraping the remaining dregs — barely enough to get him back home.

"If you plan on staying here for a while, you'll need more Floo Powder!" he called, but he was greeted with silence once more.

The moment he stepped out of the Burrow fireplace, he was ambushed by Hermione grabbing his arms. "Was he okay? Has he eaten? What did you talk about?"

"He's fine," Ron said, holding her out at arm's length and smiling. "Miserable, but he's fine. No, he hadn't eaten, but I think I convinced him that finding some new clothes was a good idea. And we didn't talk about much, really."

"But he talked?"

"Yes, he talked. He just needs some space, Hermione. And not having people tell him every five minutes how to feel. He's coming to the funerals, but until then, we'll give him some time."

He looked at her — dressed in her pyjamas, her hair tied him, she'd never been more beautiful. A rush of love came over him in that moment, and he pulled her towards him.

Another rush of emotion hit him, as well, a wave of confidence flooding him and drowning out all the nerves he felt earlier. "Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Didn't we have plans tonight?"

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first chapter, for the favourites, the follows, the comments/reviews, and also for the follows on Instagram :) I hope you like chapter 2 just as much, or more! And don't forget, your comments are really appreciated!