Author: earthquakedream (Meg)
Warnings: Post-HBP, violence, angst, minor character death, slash
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters are not mine, and they never will be.
Summary: Ron becomes obsessed with keeping Harry safe. In a desperate quest, his risks his life, with horrible consequences.
Word Count: 7,753
Author’s Note: Written for Wave Two at hprwfqf. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks to magicofisis for the wonderful beta job. All remaining mistakes are my fault.
I have to take care of him. No matter what. He’s too busy worrying about everyone else to worry about himself. He’s never watching his own back; he’s watching everyone fight around him, making sure they don’t get hurt, and it’s up to me, his best friend, to make sure that nothing ever happens to him.
Ron could try, but no one ever said it would be easy. Finding and destroying the Horcruxes was a dangerous mission, but Harry was stubborn--nothing could deter him.
Ron wasn’t stupid. He knew Harry was trying to push both him and Hermione away, trying to make sure they didn’t get hurt. But they were just as stubborn as Harry was, Ron even more so than Hermione. They weren’t leaving his side for anything. Ron had even gone so far as to put a tracking charm on the leather wristband he had given Harry for his birthday. It had Harry’s name engraved on the inside, along with the date and a short message from Ron:
‘I’ll always be there for you, mate. I promise.’
It had proved useful when the berk had tried to sneak off, leaving Ron and Hermione behind. He had gotten a stern talking to from not only Hermione, but Ron as well. Ron was simply worried for his friend. Nothing would happen to Harry so long as Ron was around. Harry had even promised never to take the band off--and Hermione had helpfully spelled it with an Unbreakable Charm. Now Ron would always know where Harry was.
“Ron, I need to do this on my own. I’m sorry, but you can’t come along this time,” Harry said for what seemed like the thousandth time.
“Like hell, I can’t! You’re not going alone, Harry. I can promise you that,” Ron snapped back. This too was an often-said line.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, mate” Harry replied, exasperated.
“And you think I’ll sit back while you go off and get yourself blasted to bloody bits? I don’t think so! Harry, you don’t know what you’re going to be up against! I need to be there, so if anything happens, I can save you!” Ron was yelling again and Hermione would be up here any second. It served Harry right for trying to sneak off in the middle of the night. Again.
“I don’t need you to save me, Ron. I can do this on my own,” Harry said, his voice lowering dangerously.
But Harry was wrong, he couldn’t do this on his own. He needed Ron--and Hermione, who was good for research, though she tended to panic during dangerous situations, Ron only added her as an afterthought when he told Harry this. He realised what a mistake he had made as he said this, because Harry’s eyes narrowed and his breathing sped up.
“I DON’T NEED YOU, OR HERMIONE, OR ANYONE! I CAN DO THIS ON MY OWN, AND I WILL! YOU’RE NOT GOING OT STOP ME, RON, AND NEITHER WILL ANYONE ELSE!” Harry was screaming hoarsely, red-faced and panting in anger.
“I can’t let you take the risk, Harry,” Ron whispered, devastated by Harry’s harsh words. “I just can’t. I’m your second, remember?”
Harry paled and his breathing slowed down, and Ron could see him struggle to reign in his emotions. “I’m going to be hurt, mate. You’re not always going to be around to save me.”
“But I will be, if you let me. Please, Harry. I--I won’t be able to stand it if anything happens because I wasn’t there for you.”
Harry sighed and bowed his head. When he looked back at Ron, his eyes were shining with resignation and gratitude. “Fine, Ron. Just…don’t let yourself or Hermione get hurt. I can take care of myself.”
“Sure, Harry. Whatever you have to tell yourself,” Ron replied, smiling widely, glad he finally got his way. Harry laughed and their anger was forgotten. Ron knew the peace wouldn’t last, but it would do for now.
It had taken Hermione only a week of research to find the next Horcrux. Rowena Ravenclaw had always used raven feather quills, except for one giant peacock feather she had received from Salazar Slytherin as a courting gift. She used it faithfully until the tip had worn down so much that it could no longer be used. Hermione had found this in the first edition of Hogwarts, A History.
In an obscure book that Hermione wouldn’t give the title of, she found out that Ravenclaw had found out Slytherin was meeting up with Gryffindor in the Room of Requirement for “acts that are not fit to be mention in any respectable book,” as she had put it when she had told Harry and Ron later. Harry and snickered and Ron had blushed.
Ravenclaw had hidden her quill in her own secret room in Hogwarts. No one had ever found the location of this room; but then, no one had ever had Hermione searching for it. But when the Trio searched this room--with McGonagall’s permission, of course--they were unable to find anything.
Harry had suggested looking in Riddle’s old orphanage. He coaxed the location of this place from Dumbledore’s portrait and promised his dead professor that he’d be safe.
When they got there, the orphanage was a blackened, boarded-up shell of its former self. Voldemort had destroyed the building during his first reign of terror.
It took them hours to fight off the Inferi, figure out all the enchantments upon the lone wardrobe--which had caught fire the minute Harry had touched it, and Ron had pushed him out of the way immediately, ready to yell at Harry for his stupidity. It turned out to be fake fire, but Ron was still angry--and out of the several peacock feather quills inside the thing, they had to pick the correct one out the first time. After much searching, Ron had noticed the almost invisible snake drawn on one side of the quill. Harry was the only one able to reach through the shield around the quills to pick it up.
Ron had barely let Harry fight--he had constantly pushed him out of the way, taken out any Inferi that had come after him, and refused to let Harry touch the quills until he realised it was necessary.
But the time they were done, all three of them had been covered in soot and blood, their clothes torn and they were all bound to have nightmares for weeks.
When they arrived back at Grimmauld Place, where Harry had insisted upon staying for the summer, he wouldn’t even look at Ron. Hermione had snuck off to take a shower, not eager to get caught in their inevitable argument.
“I can fucking take care of myself, you know! I don’t need you to pull me out of danger’s way all the time!”
“I’m sorry, Harry, I just don’t want to see you get hurt! Why do you need to fight when there are people to do it for you?” At that, Harry turned absolutely livid.
“I don’t need other people to fight my battles, Ron,” Harry spat, stepping close to Ron. “I’m here to fight the battle for everyone else. If I get hurt, that’s too bad. If I die…well, there’s nothing anyone can do about that, now is there?”
Ron was shocked. Did Harry want to die? “Don’t talk like that, Harry! You’re not going to die! I’m not going to let you. Even if I have to jump in front of a curse for you, then I will!” Harry’s face was bright red, his eyes dark with anger, and he slammed Ron against the wall, his words harsh and low.
“No. You. Won’t. I’m not going to let anyone else I love get hurt. Not you, or Hermione--” Ron cut him off by cupping Harry’s face in his hands.
“Harry. Harry,” Ron repeated, his voice soft and sad. “Don’t worry about us. Just…don’t let yourself get hurt. I’ll take care of Hermione and me. But I’ll always look out for you.” Ron felt tears gather in his eyes, and he knew he would break down if Harry said anything else against him. But surprisingly, Harry didn’t. He only leaned into Ron’s touch and sighed sadly.
“That’s all I can ask of you, I suppose. I really do appreciate your effort to keep me safe, Ron. You’re my best mate, my second, and I--I’m just really worried about you, you know? I don’t think I could stand it, if anything were to…happen to you.” Harry stopped, also close to crying. Ron let his hands fall to Harry’s shoulders as he pulled him close for tight hug.
“I know what you mean, mate. I--I would probably die if you did. I can’t--I can’t live without you.” Ron’s voice cracked and Harry pulled him so close that Ron could barely breathe.
“Yeah,” Harry replied, and Ron could feel hot tears soak his neck as Harry buried his face into his shoulder. Ron let his own tears fall, not caring anymore. Harry was safe; that was all that mattered.
Ron ducked as a curse flew over his shoulder. There were bodies everywhere, face down and anonymous at the moment. The Death Eaters were beginning to overpower the Order, and he had lost sight of Harry. The leather wristband had been destroyed earlier that week, so Ron had no way to find his friend.
“Ron, Harry’s gone off to face You-Know-Who! Go find him,” Hermione said from somewhere to his left. Ron looked around fearfully, but she too had disappeared. Ron set his jaw and held his wand out as he looked for Harry.
He found him moments later, barely able to stand on his own as he stood in front of the Dark Lord.
“Harry, you are going to die tonight. And no one is going to save you. No one will care,” Voldemort said in a soft, mocking voice. Ron saw Harry’s eyes narrow, as he stood up straighter. Ron started to sprint towards Harry. He had to be at Harry’s side when he took Voldemort down. He had promised.
Ron got there just as Voldemort raised his wand.
Ron saw a green bolt, just as green as Harry’s eyes, shoot from Voldemort’s wand. He shouted as he tried to push Harry out of the way, anything to save him, but he was stuck, he couldn’t move, he could only watch as the curse hit Harry and his best friend’s lifeless body flew backwards, more graceful in death than he had ever been in living.
Ron screamed as Harry’s empty eyes stared back at him accusingly. Voldemort laughed. Ron screamed louder.
“Ron! Ron, wake up! C’mon, mate!”
That was Harry. But…Harry was dead! Ron sat up quickly and found himself looking straight into Harry’s eyes--
Green, so green, curses, death, Voldemort, Harry, Harry dead, Harry’s empty, empty green eyes…
“Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh my fucking God,” Ron breathed. Harry was looking at him fearfully and Ron threw his arms around his shoulders, making sure Harry was really there, really alive, and, “oh, Harry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, sorry. Forgive me, please, I’m so sorry.”
Harry’s arms had wrapped around his back immediately, but now he pulled back to look Ron in the eyes. “What are you talking about, Ron? What are you sorry for?”
“You--you were dead! And I didn’t save you! I couldn’t move, and Vo-Voldemort killed you! And it was all my fault.” Harry pulled him close again, understanding, petting Ron’s head as he sobbed into his shoulder.
“I’m right here, Ron, right here. I’m not dead, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, don’t you worry, mate,” Harry said soothingly. Ron continued to cry heavily, unable to stop himself. It was still dark outside, the half moon shining in the sky. “It was only a dream, mate. Just a dream.”
“Oh, God. It was all my fault!” Ron moaned again. Harry continued to hold him, whispering softly in his ear. They fell asleep like that, Harry’s shirt wet from Ron’s tears, Ron’s face buried in the crook between Harry’s neck and shoulder.
Ron woke up in Harry’s arms and smiled. The shock and horror of his nightmare from last night had worn off and now he was just content to lay here in bed, warm from the feel of another body against his, especially knowing that it was his best mate. For a while, Ron just forgot about the war as he dozed lightly, waiting for Harry to wake up.
At one point, when he realised that he couldn’t fall back asleep, Ron opened his eyes and just watched Harry sleep, his mouth slightly open, the worry lines on his forehead almost gone. He breathed deeply, calmly. Ron’s mouth quirked into a slight smile and he ran his fingers through Harry’s hair.
Harry stirred and yawned widely. Ron’s smile grew as Harry opened his eyes and looked at him sleepily.
“Morning, mate,” Ron said cheerfully. Harry blinked slowly and smirked at him.
“Yeah, morning,” he replied tiredly. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah, actually. I didn’t dream really after. Uh, thanks for that, Harry. I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep at all if it weren’t for you.”
Harry nodded and smiled back. Then he yawned and stretched, lifting his arms until his pyjama top had raised so much that half his chest was exposed. Ron’s eyes were drawn to the broad expanse of skin, taught over Harry’s lightly defined abdominal muscles, a thin trail of hair leading past Harry’s pants, down to a half hard bulge. Ron bit his lip to stifle the gasp that rose in his throat at he sight.
Harry was exquisite. Beautiful. And utterly, completely straight.
Ron had used Lavender as a way to convince himself that he was straight too, but no matter how much he had snogged her, it hadn’t worked at all. He was unable to deny how he felt for Harry when his best mate had kissed his only sister in front of their whole house. The jealousy that had welled up in him at he sight was so completely different from the anger he had always felt at seeing Ginny kiss Dean that he knew it couldn’t be anything else.
Harry was straight and in love with Ginny, though he was protecting her by distancing himself from her. Ron respected Harry for this.
Ron was gay and in love with Harry, though he was smart enough to know that Hermione liked him. He didn’t want to lead her on, but he knew that everyone was expecting them to get together. He was still trying to figure out what to do in that area. For know, he was content with pretending to be oblivious.
Harry seemed to notice his silence. “All right there, Ron,” he asked, concern lacing his voice. Ron’s eyes flicked up to Harry’s face and he blushed, swallowing heavily.
“I’m fine, mate,” he replied quietly, hoping Harry didn’t notice the bulge in his own pants. Ron slid out of bed slowly, turning his back on Harry. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
“Okay,” Harry said behind him, his voice doubtful. Ron turned his head and flashed Harry a smile. Harry smiled back then, all doubt leaving his face.
Once Ron reached the bathroom, he sighed with relief. “I really need to get over this,” he said to himself. One of these days, Harry was going to catch him staring, and then Ron would be in deep shit.
“Bloody hell,” Ron groaned as his mind supplied his aching cock with images of alternative ways Harry could react to the knowledge that his best mate lusted after him.
Ron hurried to the shower, wanking quickly and efficiently, whispering Harry’s name as he came. When Harry walked into the bathroom several minutes later, Ron couldn’t help but blush again. He avoided Harry’s eyes in the mirror as they brushed their teeth together, an oddly domestic moment in Ron’s opinion.
As Ron turned to leave so Harry could take his shower, Harry grabbed his arm, giving him a worried look. Ron didn’t have the energy to force a smile this time, and Harry wrapped him in a fierce hug before letting him leave.
Ron threw himself on his bed after the door closed behind him. He listened to the sound of Harry getting ready for his shower, the soft sounds of him removing his clothes, to the steady pound of water against the tiles.
Then came the slick sounds of…wanking. Harry was in the next room, wanking, touching himself. Ron groaned softly as his over-eager cock twitched in his jeans. Harry had probably heard Ron wank too, but Ron would bet several galleons that he hadn’t had anything close to the same reaction Ron was having right now.
He heard Harry whimper and groan, and Ron was incapable of resisting the need of his own erection. He unzipped his trouser quickly, taking hold of himself and he masturbated quietly, keeping his sounds of need quiet as he listened to Harry. He came moments after Harry did, the other letting out a loud moan of completion, while Ron stifled his own by biting his forearm.
He fumbled for his wand with his clean hand, spelling himself fresh with a few choice words. By the time Harry came back into the bedroom, Ron had grabbed a Quidditch magazine and was blushing once again behind it, mentally berating himself for giving into his urges. One of these days, Harry was going to figure it out and hate him forever.
“I want to go too! How am I ever going to fight Voldemort if I’m hiding?” Harry sounded like a petulant child, but Ron was sure he didn’t care at the moment. As much as Ron hated to admit it, Harry was right. He would never learn how to truly battle unless he had experience--real life experience too, not just practicing with Lupin in a safe room.
But this time, it would be okay, because Ron would be right there by Harry’s side. He could pull Harry out of any trouble, and if he lost Harry among the chaos, he always had the leather wristband.
Harry had left it on the stand by his bed when he went in to take his shower that morning. During that time, Ron had spelled it to turn warm whenever he was in trouble, much like the DA galleons, and had begged Charlie to get him a matching one.
Now Ron could know when Harry was hurt as well, after he put a similar charm on his own wristband. His was also spelled with a tracking spell that he would bind to Harry once he told him. Thank the God for Hermione, who had researched and taught Ron all these spells at the beginning of the summer.
And now would be the perfect time to tell Harry. Ron only had to get Lupin to agree to let them go into battle and--
“You’re right, of course. You can come Harry, but I want you staying near the Anti-Apparition boundaries that we’re going to put up, so you can escape if you need to,” Lupin said in his ever-calm voice. Harry smiled grimly and Ron beckoned him over.
“Harry, I want to tell you something before we go,” he whispered once they had moved to an empty lounge. They were in Grimmauld Place for the first time that summer, and Ron could tell it still made Harry remember Sirius, even more than a year later.
“Ron,” Harry said calmly. “If this about protecting me--”
“No,” Ron said quickly. Then he took a deep breath and continued. “Well. Sort of. But I’m not going to insist you stay here, or out of danger. I just wanted to let you know why I asked you never to take off that wristband I gave you.” Harry gave him a curious look, so Ron continued.
“I…well, don’t get angry, but I put a simple tracking spell on there, because Hermione had told me she was afraid you might sneak off this summer. And she was right, wasn’t she? That’s how I was able to find you the first time.” Harry didn’t look too angry, just more curious. “Um, so, I had Charlie get me a matching one, and I charmed both of ours to turn warm if the other were endangered. It’s sort of like the Protean Charm Hermione used on the Galleons for the DA meetings.”
Harry nodded and seemed intrigued, so Ron took another breath and told Harry the rest. “I also added a tracking spell to mine, and now all it needs is to be bound to you. So now we can find each other and know when one of us in is trouble. Is that…okay,” Ron asked, confused at Harry’s silence.
“You did this all by yourself?” Harry asked slowly.
Ron shook his head and grinned. “Of course not! Hermione researched the spells and taught me them, but I set them and came up with the whole thing on my own. I was--am--worried for you, Harry. It was the easiest way to keep track of you without hovering over your shoulder. And the wristbands only react if it’s serious danger, and practically burns when the danger’s life-threatening, or if one of us gets a horrible injury.”
Harry grinned at Ron, his eyes sparkling with…something Ron couldn’t quite identify. “Oh, Ron. You don’t know what this means to me, really. I just…” Harry trailed off as he stepped forward. He hesitated barely a second before throwing his arms around Ron’s shoulders and embracing his friend tightly. Ron returned the hug with fervor, praying that the battle would be uneventful.
“Ron…” Harry said slowly, right before they apparated several minutes later. Hermione was standing off to their right--they had already spoken with her, given her hugs and telling her they loved her--, Lupin in front of them, Charlie and Bill behind them, a few hours surround them all, and Ginny--why she was allowed to go, Ron never knew--to their left. Ron looked at Harry and grabbed his hand, unsurprised to feel it shaking wildly.
“Yeah, mate?” Ron asked, his voice soft so the others didn’t hear them. Harry kept hold on his hand, squeezing it tightly, almost cutting off Ron’s circulation.
“Love you,” he replied, eyes once again shining with that…something. Ron smiled, sure it was just as shaky as the rest of his body as he leaned closer to Harry.
“Love you too, mate,” Ron whispered. Then Lupin counted to three, and they all apparated, Ron and Harry still hand-in-hand.
The battle reminded Ron too much of his dream. Except for the distinct lack of Voldemort and his most trusted follower. He looked around for them once again, but instead found himself catching Harry’s eyes. Harry shook his head and turned back to the Death Eater currently fighting off a well-aimed Jelly Legs Jinx.
Ginny was a few feet behind them, fighting off another nameless, masked Death Eater. She managed to knock him over with a quick hex, but then there was another, and another. Harry caught sight of her predicament and went to help her. In his haste, he forgot about the Death Eater he had been fighting.
Ron hadn’t though. He took the man down with another curse and joined Harry, who was almost back-to-back with Ginny. They fought together, their movements quick and efficient. They took down each of the Death Eaters together, until they were left panting and tired with several unconscious enemies at their feet.
What happened next left no time for reaction. The Death Eater Harry had been battling was back up on his feet, his wand aimed at Harry as he shouted out a curse. Ron didn’t hear it, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.
Moving as quickly as he could, he tackled Harry to the side. In his haste to save his best friend, he had forgot about his sister. Ginny, instead of Harry, was the one to get hit with the bright orange curse. The light enveloped her completely and she went flying through the air, her mouth opened in a silent scream as her hair was whipped around her face. She hit the ground with a sickly thump that made Ron sure she was dead.
Harry looked furious. He hit the Death Eater with a harsh Stupefy and pushed Ron off him. Ron sat back without thought, staring blankly at his sister’s corpse.
No, he thought. Not her. Not Ginny. He continued to stare, even as Hermione came over and shook his shoulder, urging him to get up. Even as Harry leaned over his sister’s prone body, trying to wake her in vain. Hermione caught sight of what had Ron so transfixed and she screamed, rushing over the Harry’s side. She too tried to wake Ginny, only to fail just as badly.
“My fault,” Ron thought, unaware that he was speaking aloud. “God, she’s gone and it’s all my fault.”
“Ron! Ron, what are you doing?” That was Lupin. He was running towards them, striking down Death Eaters without hesitation. Soon he was at Ron’s side, shaking his shoulder lightly before catching sight of Harry and Hermione sobbing over Ginny.
“Is that…?” Lupin asked, his voice strained. Ron nodded silently. Lupin put an arm around his shoulders and helped him up. He called some unoccupied Order members over and ordered them to take Ron and his friends back to Headquarters.
“It’s going to be okay, Ron,” Lupin tried to reassure him as he was passed to an Order member whose name he didn’t know. Soon, Harry was by his side, glaring at him fiercely. Ron felt tears start to stream down his cheeks and he felt the Order member clasp a strong hand onto his shoulder.
“Time to take you away, boys,” he growled. Ron felt a brief moment of panic as he recognized that voice. He could tell that Harry heard it too, but then they were being squeezed from all sides, Ron couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything but a horrible pressure on his chest and that hand on his shoulder. Then he felt a calloused hand close around his own, and his panic left him for a brief second.
Then he and Harry landed together on a hard, cold floor. Ron felt what little breath he had left from the apparation leave his lungs. He felt Harry’s hand tighten convulsively around his. He tried to breathe, but it took him a few seconds.
A red spell was rushing at both of them and all Ron knew was darkness.
When Ron woke, the first thing he noticed was how absolutely sore he was. He tried to remember if he had been put under Crucio at all, but he couldn’t recall.
His second thought was of Harry. He opened his eyes, only to find that he couldn’t see. So he waited a few moments to let his eyes adjust to the impenetrable darkness. Finally, he found he could just make out the vague outlines of bars surrounding him. He was in a room made fully of stone, with prison cells lining the walls.
To his right, he could see a body. Harry. Ron crawled over to his side, ignoring the pain the seemed to pervade every muscle in his body. He thought of searching for his wand, but he knew the search would prove futile.
Once he reached Harry, he turned him over on his back. Harry was still unconscious, his glasses broken and his lip bleeding. Ron bit his lip in sympathy as he continued his examination of Harry’s body. Checking for broken bones and such was one of the things Hermione had taught him when Ron had expressed his desire to keep Harry safe. So he did exactly what she had told him to do, listening intently for the sound of bones scraping together. He found none, much to his relief. Nor did he find evidence of any other serious injuries.
Once he was sure Harry was all right, for the most part anyway, Ron sighed. They were captured, being held prisoner by Death Eaters, with no way out. And Ginny was dead. That was Ron’s fault, and no one would be able to convince otherwise. Harry probably wouldn’t even want to try.
But Harry was still his best mate, and Ron still loved him. So he gathered Harry’s quiescent body in his arms, just to ward off the cold, and leaned against the cold stonewall. He rested his head against the hard rocks and resisted the urge to beat his head against them.
Soon enough, darkness claimed him once again. Only this time, he was plagued with nightmares of his sister dying, again and again, and he woke up to find that Harry had crawled away from him while he was asleep to curl up in a corner of the cell.
Ron was unable to look at Harry. He could feel the weight of Harry’s accusing stare resting on the top of his bent head. Though Harry had held his hand when they had been kidnapped, Ron knew he was still at him for allowing Ginny’s death.
“Harry,” Ron choked out between sobs--when had he started crying?
“Fuck you, Ron,” Harry replied with such venom that Ron could do nothing but cry harder. His last thought before he passed out once more was that somewhere between Ginny’s death and his capture, he had received a concussion.
This time when Ron woke up, Harry was closer to him, only six inches away, his body curled into the fetal position, panting harshly. Ron’s protective instincts kicked in immediately. He remembered feeling a strong heat on his wrist while he was passed out. What had they done to Harry?
“Harry, mate, what happened? What did they do to you?” Ron reached over to wrap his arms around Harry’s waist and pull him close. Harry winced and pulled away. Ron heard him whimper and immediately backed off.
“Oh, God, they beat you, didn’t they?” And you didn’t even wake up, a little voice in the back of his head pointed out. Ron groaned and leaned over Harry, pushing his arms back from where they had curled protectively over his head in order to get a better look at his injuries. He repeated the same process he had when Harry was passed out. He found two broken ribs and what might be a sprain in Harry’s wrist.
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” Ron whispered. Harry finally opened his eyes and looked at him. Ron had to hold back a gasp at how much pain they held.
“Why?” Harry asked, his voice hoarse. He sounded as if he had been crying for a while. Ron shook his head and moved farther from him.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just slept while they hurt you. I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.” Ron felt tears start to fall down his face. He let his head fall to his knees where they were pulled up to his chest. “It’s all my fault. Everything is.”
Harry didn’t say anything. He just let Ron cry and didn’t deny a single thing that Ron said. Then the guards came.
“Stop bawling, you fucking baby,” one of them said with disgust. Ron looked up, but he couldn’t stop the tears. He didn’t recognize either man, but he figured they were just two more Death Eaters.
Neither Ron nor Harry said anything, not wanting to anger the guards. It seemed they were angry already. The two brutes opened the door of the cell and locked it behind them.
“Time for you two to learn a little lesson. You should know better than to trust strangers, even if they do seem to be in your precious Order.”
The first one that had spoken strode the short distance to Ron and aimed a harsh kick right for his stomach. Ron cried out in pain and tried to curl up to protect himself. It didn’t work too well. The guard kicked him everywhere he could reach: his legs, back, arms, head. Ron tried not to scream, but it fucking hurt. He was pretty sure his left arm was broken, and definitely several ribs. If only he had his wand, he could heal himself and Harry.
Harry was getting the shit beat out of him as well. Ron could hear him whimper every time the other guard kicked him. And hearing Harry in pain like that only made Ron’s pain worse. But he didn’t fight the guard; why should he? He deserved all the pain he got. This was his fucking fault.
But you did it to save Harry, he remembered. And that made some of the pain go away. He still felt horrible that his sister had died, and that Harry was being hurt anyway, but at least Harry was alive. That was what mattered most. Even if Harry hated him for it.
With one last kick to the head, the darkness came for him once again. His wrist felt as if it were on fire, anyway. He was sure to have a burn mark after this was over.
When Ron woke up, it was to find Harry holding him. Harry was saying something, but Ron couldn’t really hear him. He figured it was due to the major concussion he currently had. If he strained his ears enough, he could make it out.
“…so sorry. I tried to get away, to protect you, but I couldn’t, I’m too weak. I don’t blame you at all. I know you were just trying to save me. I’m so sorry, Ron. I don’t hate you. I was just angry that Ginny had died and I thought it was all my fault. But you were the one who always convince me that I couldn’t save everybody. And I know that’s true, but I wish I could just save us right now.”
Harry moved his arm to hold Ron tighter and Ron cried out in pain. Harry let him go immediately.
“Oh, God, what did I do? Did I hurt you, Ron? I’m so sorry,” Harry said, sounding absolutely wretched. Ron shook his head and sat up.
“No, it’s just…you brushed against my arm. I’m pretty sure they broke it. That’s all,” Ron reassured him. Harry still looked horrified.
“You heard what I was saying, right?” Ron nodded and Harry sighed with relief.
“Good. I didn’t want to repeat it all.” Harry paused for a moment. “How are we going to get out of here?”
“I would suggest using our wristbands, but since we’re both wearing them, it’d be kind of hard, right?” Harry looked down at his and stroked it softly.
“Yeah. But they’re a brilliant gift all the same, mate,” he replied, his voice soft. When he looked back at Ron, his eyes were once again shining with that same unidentifiable emotion. Ron felt his chest tighten and his heart beat faster.
“Harry…” he started, but they were interrupted in the next moment.
“Hello, Weasel, Potty,” came a drawling, sneering voice from outside their cell. They both snapped their heads up to look at the origin of the voice.
“Ferret,” Ron snapped. “What the hell do you want? Come to take your shots at us as well?” Malfoy sneered at them and turned to the guards.
“I want some alone time with the two of them. Go wait outside and don’t come back until I say, all right?” The guards--not the same two as the blokes who had beat them up earlier--nodded and left quickly.
“That’s what happens when your father’s back in favor with the Dark Lord,” Malfoy said. His voice sounded bitter.
“Jealous, Malfoy?” Ron asked. Malfoy glared at him.
“Not even. I wish the bastard were still in Azkaban. Then maybe I could hide in Malfoy Manor instead of trying to get you two fuckers out of here.”
Ron gaped. Harry just looked at him.
“So you’re the new spy Snape was talking about?” Malfoy nodded, his face once again bitter.
“Not after the stunt I’m about to pull, though. I’ll have to hide out at Headquarters for the rest of the war, unless I’m wearing a glamour of some sort,” he replied. “But I guess that’s better than torturing pregnant women and their kids. That’s not exactly my idea of fun.”
Ron was still gaping. Harry was just nodding. “Good for you, Malfoy. I wasn’t really looking forward to seeing you in battle, especially when I knew that you couldn’t kill Dumbledore.”
Malfoy sneered again. “Yeah. Whatever.” He finally opened the cell door and locked it behind him. He pulled two wands out of his pocket and handed them to their owners.
“You’ll have to wait to be healed until we get back, I’m afraid. My training never dealt with those sort of spells.” Malfoy pulled another object out of his pocket and set in on the floor. Harry and Ron immediately grabbed it. Malfoy grabbed hold too and whispered a word.
Then Ron felt a jerking behind his navel as they flew to safety.
Ron knew he had passed out at some point, because when he woke, he was in a bed. He looked around him and recognized the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. He smiled in remembrance of all the other times he had been here, but it came out as more of a grimace.
He heard a snore come from his side and looked over. Harry was curled up in a chair, one of his hands over his wristband. His glasses were crooked and his head was at a very uncomfortable-looking angle. Ron chuckled softly and was able to genuinely smile.
Harry must have heard his laugh, because he woke up suddenly, wincing as his neck cracked several times. He looked at Ron, his hand never moving from its place on his wrist. When he saw that Ron was awake, his face broke into a wide smile.
“Ron,” he yelped, jumping on to the bed and grabbing him in a tight embrace. Ron winced at the pressure on his still sore ribs, but returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm.
“How are you feeling?” Harry asked, his face still buried in Ron’s shoulder. He had maneuvered himself so he was lying beside Ron, his arms around Ron’s waist and one of his legs lay between the other boy’s.
Ron swallowed hard and tried not to notice how close Harry’s thigh was to his cock. He had his own arms around Harry’s back, wanting to pull him closer but afraid that Harry might feel the resulting erection he was close to getting.
“’M fine,” he replied, one of his hands going up to run through Harry’s hair. “How’re you feeling?”
“Fine,” Harry said, nuzzling Ron’s jaw. Ron felt his breath speeding up and silently cursed Harry’s affectionate side. This would only end badly.
“Hey Ron,” Harry said hesitantly. Ron stiffened.
“Yes,” he asked, his voice just as wary as Harry’s.
“What were you trying to say to me before Malfoy came in to save us?” Ron sighed in something close to relief.
“Just that I would always love you, no matter what, and that I didn’t blame any of it on you. That I would never make you take the blame for anything. And that I was sorry,” he replied, his voice soft and sad.
Harry pulled away slightly so he could look up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Harry smiled softly and put his head back on Ron’s shoulder. Ron could feel Harry’s hot breath caressing his neck and cursed his hormones. His cock was waking up and Harry’s thigh was still dangerously close to it.
Then something strange happened. Whether accidentally or purposely, Harry’s lips brushed against his jaw. Ron’s whole body stiffened as his prick twitched in his thin pyjama pants.
“Fuck,” he whispered. Then it happened again. And again. It was definitely on purpose now, there was now denying it. Harry started to press warm, opened-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck, making Ron moan loudly. His cock was now fully hard and he could feel Harry’s thigh moving against it softly, teasingly.
Then the door opened. Ron cursed again and Harry stopped kissing him, but didn’t pull away. He was feigning sleep, and Ron followed along, pretending to snore softly.
“Oh,” he heard Hermione’s voice say. She didn’t sound surprised. Ron was immensely glad that he was under some blankets, and that Harry hadn’t moved his leg at all, because his erection would have been very obvious otherwise.
“Ron,” she called softly. Ron blinked as if he was sleepy and looked at her. His arms were still around Harry and he resisted the urge to pull him closer. He could feel Harry smiled against his neck as he shifted slightly. Ron’s eyes widened as Harry’s thigh rubbed against his cock again.
“Hey Hermione,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse with arousal. Hopefully she would assume that it was due to lack of use. Harry’s leg shifted again and Ron exhaled loudly.
“How are you?” Hermione asked, her voice soft, probably since she didn’t want to wake Harry up.
Ron smiled at her. “I’m great,” he replied truthfully.
“That’s good,” she said, smiling at him. “I should probably go. I'll come back when you aren't resting. Malfoy is waiting to tell us how he saved you. Snape and McGonagall were the only ones who knew he was a spy, so when he showed up at Headquarters with you unconscious and Harry crying, both of you injured and dirty, we were kind of…shocked, to say the least. Oh, and Dobby should be up with your breakfast soon.”
Hermione kissed him on the cheek, then Harry, and left, smiling once over her shoulder. Right before she walked out the door, she turned back.
“I’d wait until you got home to do anything, boys. You never know who might walk in.” With a wink, she continued out the door.
Ron was gaping again. Harry was smothering his giggles in Ron’s shoulder.
“She’s brilliant,” Harry said breathlessly. Despite Hermione’s warnings, he was still rubbing his thigh against Ron’s cock. Ron moaned and arched into the contact. Harry pulled away to smile at him widely.
Then Ron grabbed his hair and pulled him down for a long, rough kiss. Harry returned it eagerly. Unfortunately, Ron was too weak to continue, no matter how badly he wanted to. Harry removed his leg and contented himself with just curling up in Ron’s arms.
Ron didn’t bother to ask him if this was what he wanted. He already knew.
“I love you, Harry,” he said. He waited for a reply, but Harry was already asleep. Ron followed his lead and never heard the door shut with a soft click and an even softer sigh.
“Oh, fuck, Harry,” Ron gasped. Harry was naked, rubbing against him eagerly, their erections brushing as Ron arched into the contact.
“Mmm, Ron,” Harry moaned. He scrambled for their much-used lube and handed it to Ron. Ron reluctantly let go of Harry’s arse in order to unscrew the lid and squeeze a generous amount of the stuff onto his fingers.
“I want to fuck you, Harry,” he panted. Harry groaned in reply, taking Ron’s hand and guiding it down between his legs. Ron kissed him as he slid a digit into Harry’s tight entrance. He let his mouth continue down Harry’s neck to his chest, licking and biting at his nipples until Harry was arching up into his mouth while trying to push back on his finger.
Ron added another finger and stretched Harry gently, his cock twitching as he imagined how it would feel to be inside Harry, thrusting and fucking and coming inside him. He brushed something inside Harry then that caused him to shout loudly.
“Oh, do that again, please!” So Ron did, adding a third finger and fucking Harry with them, slowly and seductively. Harry was moaning and writhing on the bed beneath him.
“Fuck me now,” Harry breathed, fumbling for the lube so he could spread it on Ron’s leaking cock. Ron moaned at the contact, loving the contrast between the cold lube and Harry’s hot, sweaty hand. He tried to arch into the contact, but Harry let go and begged Ron once more to fuck him.
So Ron slid his fingers out and slowly replaced them with his cock, stopping when Harry grimaced or whimpered in pain. He knew it had to hurt--that’s what the books Hermione had left on his desk said--but he had stretched Harry the best he could.
Finally, he was fully sheathed in Harry’s arse, biting his lip and praying he didn’t come right then at the feel of Harry, tight and hot and perfect--surrounding him. Then Harry moaned and pushed down against him, wrapping his legs around Ron’s waist. Ron could no longer hold back and he thrust his cock into Harry, making Harry cry out and push back.
Ron thrust eagerly, roughly, not trying to be gentle. It had only been a week since Ginny’s death, since they had been kidnapped, and only four five days since they had been freed. They had mourned and healed and comforted each other. They needed this, no soft, sweet love making, only hard fucking. The gentle stuff could come later.
“Ron,” Harry shouted, gripping his arms tightly. Ron reached down to grab Harry’s cock, stroking it as Harry moaned and whimpered in pleasure. Then he was coming, yelling Ron’s name again. Ron tried to hold on, but with Harry’s arse clenching around him it was just too much, and his thrust deeply, spilling his release inside his lover eagerly.
Ron collapsed, to tired to hold himself up.
“Brilliant,” Harry breathed. Ron smiled against his chest and echoed the sentiment, though it was slightly muffled. Harry pulled him up and kissed him sloppily, his tongue lazily running over Ron’s.
“I love you, Ron,” Harry whispered.
“Love you too, Harry,” Ron replied softly. They smiled and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Hermione, sitting in the living room downstairs, smiled softly. Draco looked torn between horrified and amused.
“I can’t believe they forgot the silencing charm again,” he said, shaking his head. Hermione just giggled and returned to her book.
♥ Fin ♥