Fic: No Hiding Place book Three: The Cottage (12/28)

[sua_lay]

Title: No Hiding Place: Book Three: The Cottage (12/28)
Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Three: -Does being a good guy mean you also have to be a nice guy? Draco is about to find out. Companionable silences and fist fights are a good way to hide deeper emotions.
Warning: This part contains mild violence, explicit sex between men, confusion about sex (not non-con really!) and as you can guess, angst.

The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.

Part 12

Sitting on his bed, Ron kept staring into the darkness. He tried to keep his mind completely blank. Tried to block out everything.

There were sounds in the room; the soft sound of Harry breathing, the shutters moving slightly in the wind. At least there was nothing to see. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Maybe if he could concentrate on something outside his chaotic thoughts, it would be easier.

Ron raised his wand again, aiming a simple cleaning charm at his mouth. The tingle made his skin crawl and his teeth felt weird, as if they were made out of rubber. It was probably not wise to overuse the charm like this, but he had to get rid of the strange taste in his mouth.

He tried not to think about what it was.

After all the charms he'd cast, he wasn't even sure the taste was real. It was probably more a memory. Familiar taste of tea mixed with the unique taste of Malfoy's... No! He was not going to think about that.

Closing his eyes, Ron tried to focus on something -- anything -- else. The sounds in the room, the way his sheets felt cool against his skin. The faint spicy scent in the room.

Malfoy's breath coming in harsh pants as he shoved him against the tree. Hardness grinding against him, his own body responding even as his mind was screaming in disgust. The overpowering scent of heather lingering around them until the warm scent of Malfoy drove it away.

Ron gagged. The memories were too sharp, too clear. He wondered if he should try the charm again, even though it would probably not change anything.

No matter what he tried, the taste still lingered. Draco Malfoy's mouth on his. The thought made him want to throw up.

What the hell was that about anyway? He did not want the git, had never even thought about him like that. Or any other man like that. Even if he had thought of trying other men -- which he honestly had not! -- he would never, ever think about doing anything with Malfoy.

It was disgusting! Sick and twisted and perverted. How could Malfoy ever think that he would be interested?

And why the hell had his body reacted? It was like his mind had been cut off from the rest of him. Warmth against him, a strong hard body rubbing against him, and suddenly he was excited? Because of Malfoy? It felt like a betrayal, and he wanted to punch someone.

There was only one person here he could hit, one person he wanted to hit. He'd never felt like this before; his whole being thrumming with the need to hurt Malfoy and drown all these disgusting memories under a storm of violence. A bloodied nose might make the git think twice before trying his games on him again.

Yeah, it was just a game, a way to embarrass him. Nothing more. Malfoy hadn't exactly wanted him, it was all a show, to make him back off and think he was going insane. Ron was certain of that. It didn't matter that they had actually kissed -- no, Malfoy had kissed him -- or that Malfoy had been hard. It proved nothing of genuine lust or want.

Even if it did, he wasn't interested. He wouldn't shag Malfoy even if he was the last person in the world. He had standards, and they excluded stupid and evil Slytherins. How could anyone find that git attractive?

Unable to banish the smirk from his mind, Ron got to his feet. This had to stop! He didn't want to spend the whole night thinking about Malfoy. He needed to sleep or tomorrow would be a total disaster.

But how could he sleep when his mind was filled with this confusion?

There was a way; a small vial on Harry's nightstand. Ron walked across the room slowly, reluctant to grab the potion vial, He knew it was safe and it would work but he wanted nothing to do with Snape's potions.

Anything would be better than seeing Malfoy's face every time he closed his eyes or living the kiss over and over again in his mind. Taking the sludge brewn by the disgusting Slytherin Potions master was a much better option.

Ron grabbed the vial, swirling the small amount of liquid around. There was roughly half the potion left. Trying not to think about anything, he scrambled back to his bed and then emptied the vial.

He was barely able to put it on the table next to his bed before he drifted off to sleep.

There were no dreams that night. Only the darkness and the silence of sleep. It was so calming, Ron felt actually happy and rested for a few moments after waking up. Then the reality hit him again. The exam. Harry killing people.

The kiss.

Groaning, he jolted up. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he looked around the empty room. Harry had already left, his bed uncharacteristically neat, and Ron was glad of his absence.

He was sure his friend would be able to tell what had happened if he saw his beet red face. It didn't matter that Harry was not a mind reader. Somehow he would know.

Ron didn't even stop to examine his crazy thoughts. His mind was already galloping on, looking for other embarrassing scenarios. Like Harry sitting at the breakfast table, listening to Malfoy make comments about what had happened last night.

It would be so like Malfoy to make fun of him like that. Twist the whole thing so that it would sound as if he'd wanted it.

Trying not to listen to his own mind, Ron pulled on his clothes, for once not cheery and glad to be awake. He wasn't sure where he really wanted to go, downstairs for breakfast to make sure that Malfoy wasn't ruining everything, or just downstairs, out the door and maybe drown himself in the stream.

The latter did sound kind of tempting.

He shook his head, feeling disgusted by his own thoughts. Malfoy was just playing a game and he had to make sure he lost. Panicking like this meant he'd win, so he had to stop that right now.

Slamming the door shut harder than necessary, he strolled to the stairs. He was not going to act like something was wrong, even though everything kind of was. Harry would notice. There would be questions he didn't want to answer.

For the first time he understood why Harry had taken that damn potion last night. Talking about things would be too painful sometimes. Almost as painful as thinking about them.

Ron headed to the kitchen area, following the sound of utensils clinking against porcelain. A silence greeted him as he entered the room.

Muttering, "Morning," he took his usual place next to Harry. He sensed a tension in his friend and flashed a small uncomfortable smile at him. No, he was definitely not going to start talking about anything serious here. Not while he was still so damn pissed and confused.

Not a word was said as he grabbed some breakfast and ate.

It had been like this for ages; Ron had felt really uncomfortable with the four of them gathering together ever since they came here. Mostly because of the two Slytherins. Now he was at a loss of what to say to anyone. He wasn't really mad at Harry but he had no idea how to talk to him, especially since Harry so obviously didn't want to talk about anything.

There was nothing new with that. Harry had been like that for months, keeping secrets from him and Hermione. He kind of understood it now. Didn't mean he approved, but he did understand.

Pausing with the chewing, he looked up from his plate and flashed Harry a hesitant smile. The hesitation disappeared as he saw the answering smile that seemed to make Harry relax completely.

A part of the worry was gone now. Ron could deal with all the crap if he didn't have to wonder about their friendship as well.

So now all he had to worry about was Malfoy and the Potions exam. That made him startle a bit. Wait a minute! Eyes squinting slightly, he turned his attention to the blond Slytherin.

Watching Malfoy munch his breakfast calmly made Ron even more suspicious. He suddenly wondered if the completely mindless panic had been exactly what Malfoy had aimed at. It would be so like the git to do everything in his power to make him fail the Potions exam.

He embraced the possibility of it all being an evil scheme, and pushed all other thoughts out of his mind. Yes, that was it; only a weird and twisted Slytherin plot to embarrass him. Nothing more.

Incredible, how relieved it made him. Not even angry. Such plotting was what he'd come to expect from the git. Kissing for some other reason was definitely not something he wanted to contemplate, not with his own deranged reaction to the whole thing.

Ron kept his mind busy listing various cloaking potions in his mind for the rest of the morning. There was little time for anything else, since it was awfully close to the time they'd actually have to take the exam.

Once that panic set in, not even thoughts about last evening could penetrate the mindless terror. Ron barely got to visit the outhouse before having a last moment browse through whatever Potions book he could grab. He noticed how Harry was doing the same.

Malfoy's absence from the living room and the mess they were making there was hardly registered.

All too soon, the ancient clock on the wall made a soft clicking sound. It showed the time Muggle way, something Ron had needed some time to get used to. He could read the time well now. It was almost ten am.

"All right, gentlemen." Appearing from his room, Snape walked in like the harbinger of doom. "It's time for you to go and get changed. Wear trousers and T-shirts only. Remember to bring your wand with you." He made a shooing motion towards the stairs.

With one last look at the page he'd been reading -- 'how to improvise when you do not have a proper cauldron' -- Ron slammed the book shut. He walked upstairs in silence, hearing Harry's footsteps follow him.

It felt like going towards an execution. Neither of them talked while they stripped off their robes. Ron wasn't at all surprised Snape demanded such a thing; he would have concealed small slips of parchment inside his clothes if he'd thought it would work.

Then again, who would cheat on the Potions exam? Someone who didn't prize his life. Snape would definitely not be lenient on anyone who cheated.

"Ron?" It was the first thing Harry had said to him all day. "Are you ready?"

Ron shook his head slightly, looking his friend straight in the eyes. This moment, they understood each other perfectly, both sharing the horror. "No way in hell, Harry. You?"

"No. I don't think anyone can be ready for this." Even decades of studying wouldn't make them ready to take the Potions exam. There would always be more things to learn, more details to memorize.

"I know." Taking deep breaths, Ron straightened himself. "Let's go." He had to force himself to actually walk to the door, because his feet didn't want to move, at least to that direction. "Good luck." They would both need it.

"You too."

Nothing else was said as the two Gryffindors walked down the stairs to meet their doom. Malfoy was already there, leaning on the railing, looking perfectly relaxed. Ron noticed that Harry was glaring at the git as well, resenting such lack of panic. He kind of approved the look.

Snape had everything ready. There were lots of potion ingredients on the table next to the wall, piles of fresh herbs and roots as well as small jars of various preserved and disgusting things.

Shivering with both fear and anticipation, Ron placed his wand on the table, as far away from the professor as possible. He couldn't understand how Malfoy and Harry didn't seem to have any problems with Snape pawing their wands. Such trust was unbelievable and totally undeserved.

Then any other thoughts disappeared as Snape muttered a few words and silvery letters appeared on the far wall and the exam began.

There were no other worries in the world. Somehow the panic that had filled Ron earlier focused on this one thing; reading the problem described, trying to find the correct potion to solve it. Then deciding on ingredients, preparing them and then brewing the actual potion. It was hard work with lots of details.

He had no time to let his mind drift as he concentrated on his cauldron.

It was the same with Harry. He'd known this would be the most difficult exam he ever faced, but he'd had no idea of how bad it would really be.

He'd woken up early and hid downstairs amongst the books. The whole house had been quiet so it had given him a chance to try to read through some of his notes again. Even though he hadn't really been able to concentrate, he'd enjoyed that time of solitude.

Last night's panic was gone. He'd been through the worst, it was now in the open. All that was left was telling Ron the rest -- the details, if he wanted to hear them.

He rather doubted he would. There was no point in wallowing in what had happened. It was more likely Ron would want to talk about the reasons behind his silence and that would be more difficult than anything. Everything he could say would probably sound patronizing, but the truth was you couldn't possibly understand it if you hadn't faced it yourself. They would just have to deal with it, like he had to deal with every decision he'd ever been forced to make.

But only after surviving the Potions exam.

Harry picked up yet another jar, trying to figure out what the small pieces floating in purple liquid were. He'd known Snape would be devious, but this went beyond his wildest expectations. How on earth was he supposed to make a potion if he didn't know what half the ingredients were?

It was obvious the others were having the same problems. Not that he really paid attention to them. He was too busy working on his own potion.

Narrowing the options to two different potions, he prepared all the ingredients that would be needed in both. Then he went through the question again, knowing he'd have to decide what to do next. Choosing the potion that made more sense, he started to brew the thing, ignoring the shiver of fear that ran down his spine.

Time ceased to exist. There was nothing but boiling cauldrons and the soft sound of cutting ingredients. Harry was reminded of the last time he had actually made a potion, of losing all the sense of reality as he worked with Snape to finish the antidote for Ron.

Pushing that out of his head, he concentrated on the one he was brewing. He definitely didn't need to think about that evening and the currents that he'd felt between Snape and him then.

It seemed as if he'd spent an eternity working on this assignment. That's why it felt so strange to look at the clock and see that only three hours had passed since they'd started. Harry eyed at his potion suspiciously. It was done. He couldn't think of anything more to do.

He wondered if he'd get any extra points from making the potion well even if it was the wrong one. When he'd started with it, he'd been so sure it was the one he was supposed to make. Now he just didn't know.

There was no time for him to do anything about it. He leaned down to write down the last notes on the small piece of parchment, describing the final stages of the brewing and then lay down his quill.

"Good. Time is up, gentlemen," Snape said. He kept his expression neutral, hiding his amusement. It was always the same, his students panicking a moment before the exam, then calming down until it was time to actually present the potion to him. He was amazed that none of these three had broken down in tears or been physically ill. It wouldn't have been the first time that happened.

Harry gathered up his parchment and cauldron. Next to him, the others were doing the same. It seemed that they'd all finished in time.

He glanced to the left, frowning as he saw that Malfoy was presenting his potion in a small clay pot instead of a cauldron. At least the liquid in there was the same color as his potion. Maybe he had managed to actually make the correct one.

A wave of relief flushed over him as he realized that it was over. It was really over. If they passed. He would have jumped for joy if he hadn't suddenly felt so beat. He hadn't even noticed how tired and grimy he was.

Snape looked at the youngsters who all looked exhausted. "Go and get ready for lunch. I'll do the cleaning here." Pretending he didn't see the shocked stares, he started collecting the cauldrons. He preferred doing the work himself, considering he'd have to analyze every cauldron and jar used.

But not today. Listening to the footsteps moving across the room towards the stairs, he decided to grade slowly. There were other things to do. He needed to brew more of the shielding potion before long, so why not do it now? He also had to deal with their outhouse again. There was plenty of time to do his duty as the professor a bit later.

It would also allow Harry and Weasley deal with each other in peace before they'd have to start concentrating on the war.

Reaching their room first, Harry steeled himself against questions he knew would come as soon as Ron closed the door behind them. That's why he was so surprised to see Ron hurry to the closet to get a clean shirt. There were no questions, no words.

He had no idea what to think about it. The hesitant smile on Ron's face told him that the silence wasn't because of some kind of a disgust he made his friend feel. Beyond that, he had no idea why Ron was acting like this. Like he actually knew that he didn't want to talk about this right now.

"If I fail the N.E.W.T.s I'll just give up." Pulling his sweaty shirt off, Ron muttered darkly, "I never want to go through that again." His ears were ringing, and he was sure that he was about to throw up if he didn't get food soon. It seemed as if breakfast had been ages ago. A small cleaning charm would have to be enough for now.

Harry nodded slightly, wondering if this was the way they'd deal with this; ignoring the whole thing. A part of him relished the idea, but he knew they couldn't just pretend this wasn't happening.

Before he could say anything, Ron said, "I'm glad it's over for now. It'll give us time to do other stuff than to read stupid Potions books." A brief pause was followed by quiet, "Like talk or something."

No, they were definitely not going to ignore it.

"Care for a game of chess after lunch?" There had been a time when Harry didn't have to ask. He's simply sit down next to a board and sooner or later Ron would make his first move, opening the game. "We could talk while we play or something." He left it open, wanting to sound inviting and not like he was forcing the issue.

Ron blinked. Then he smiled. "Yeah. Sure."

Lunch was very different from breakfast, the silence between all men mellow somehow. Panic was gone and so were most of the darker thoughts Ron had held. He did glance at Malfoy every now and then, as if to see how he would react. When there was no reaction, he'd turn back to the food.

Snape kept his attention on his students, watching the way they acted together. At moments, he had to control his expression, especially when Weasley glared at Malfoy. There was a new tension between them. He'd have to keep an eye on those two; they were up to something, and unfortunately he knew exactly how foolish these children could be.

At least Harry seemed comfortable around them. He wasn't hiding from his friend anymore.

It was a good thing, considering young Weasley's tenacity. He'd corner Harry sooner or later. Snape knew Harry wouldn't run, but wondered if he needed more time to think.

"I'll take that." Muttering quietly, Harry grabbed the tray before Eppy could gather their empty plates. He didn't look at anyone as he loaded the tray with their plates. Collecting the glasses, he cast a look at Ron, seeing the anger bloom in the blue eyes. "I'll take care of the dishes. You think you can manage getting the chess board ready?" He grinned.

Ron had to blink a few times, as his brain tried to switch gears mid thought. "Huh? Oh. Okay, sure." With a relieved grin, he walked to the living room.

Seeing both Gryffindors disappear from the dining area, Snape cast a cool look at Draco. "I'm certain you will find something to do." His gaze flickered up, as a hint. Whatever else he could say about the boy, he could read veiled orders well. A moment later, he could hear heavy footsteps heading upstairs.

Harry was smiling a little as he waited for the ancient sink to fill. It was tedious. Watching the water trickle slowly down the tap, he could definitely understand the reason behind the outhouse.

It didn't matter that Eppy was practically sulking constantly. Harry liked being able to do something completely mechanical like washing dishes, especially since no one forced him to do it.

He worked quietly, letting his thoughts drift. The day had been a strange one. He'd thought Ron would have lots of things to say to him as soon as he woke up, but apparently he'd decided not to push. Harry had no idea what had brought his friend such insight, but he was glad for it. That sense of peace had held through the Potions exam that had been indeed difficult, but not impossible to pass. He hoped.

Now he felt restless. They had nothing to do but wait until Snape graded their essays and notes.

Until then, he was determined to enjoy himself. He needed some time to think, time alone away from the others. Not just away from Ron and the questions shining in his eyes, but away from Snape as well.

Thinking had never been difficult around the man, but this time his mind was concentrating on all the wrong things. Whatever was causing this strange attraction, he wasn't able to process it rationally when he was with Snape.

He wasn't doing a much better job alone either.

He was thinking about it, but in a very bad way, not even trying to rationalize it or work through it. He didn't need anyone to tell him it was idiotic. Thinking about Snape like this was really crazy, and he admitted it freely.

The door behind him opened slowly, making enough noise for Harry to look over his shoulder. He couldn't help smiling slightly as he saw Snape walk into the room. Speak of the devil...

"Potter." Snape placed his cup on the table, glad he'd not finished his tea before Harry and Eppy had disappeared with the tray. A glare at the doorway sent the old house elf scurrying away and the door closed with an audible click.

"Snape." There was a hint of laughter in Harry's voice. No matter how much things changed, this was always the same.

Robes rustling slightly, Snape moved closer to Harry. He didn't want to be overheard by anyone who might linger outside the door. Their conversations had always been private, and he doubted Harry wanted his friend or young Malfoy to hear about this. "Is everything all right between you and Mr. Weasley?"

For a moment Harry couldn't say anything. His whole being was focusing on the warmth radiating against his back. He didn't know if that was only a figment of his imagination, but he did feel Snape's presence like never before. And not only the quiet show of concern. "Yes."

If he moved just half a step backwards, he'd brush against Snape. He could do that, then claim it had been an accident. Or maybe he could just call himself an idiot again. There seemed to be a pattern here.

Snape could see the tension in Harry. "Are you sure? You seemed to be unwilling to talk to him yesterday."

That managed to pull Harry's thoughts back to the matter at hands. He sighed, "I don't feel like talking about these things with him is a good idea." It made him uncomfortable. "Not about the killing or the decisions we've had to make."

"Do you think that the reality is too much for him to handle?" It was clear from Snape's tone that he certainly thought so.

"Probably. Or maybe I'm not ready to have him know about those things." Harry sounded doubtful. He didn't know what he meant himself. Was he trying to protect his friend or was he trying to keep his own image untarnished? "Maybe it's not that simple."

"Explain."

There was that familiar word, forcing him to think about things. Process them and deal with something he'd much rather ignore altogether.

Harry didn't look up from the small sink. "Being with the others. Hermione and Ron and Sirius and all the others... It's like I'm on the outside of everything. Looking at these people I love, but it's not real. Sometimes I don't know what reality means. Is it the things we tell ourselves or the ugly things that really happen?"

"I know the feeling." It was spoken quietly. Snape did know; he'd felt something akin to that his whole life.

He had come to see that to most people, reality was the most obvious things they could see, whatever they were comfortable with. To them, his reality must seem like a nightmare.

Not saying anything to that, Harry kept scrubbing the already clean plate. He didn't want Snape to see how confused he was right now. This understanding and sharing a sentiment was even worse than the strange physical attraction he'd finally admitted to himself. It was much more difficult to brush off.

That didn't mean that the attraction was easy to ignore. Especially now that Snape was standing so close to him, almost touching him.

He didn't know what was bringing this to his attention so damn strongly right now. Was it because of all the months he hadn't really been able to think about anyone like that or feel any physical excitement? All the time he'd been walking around Hogwarts like a ghost, not looking for a warm embrace to drown his sorrows, but for something he couldn't even name.

Placing the plate to dry, he craned his neck a little. Seeing Snape so close to him made him shiver again.

"What are you going to do then?" After watching Harry for so long, Snape could clearly see that something was still bothering him. "With young Weasley."

Focusing on the issue at hand, Harry said, "I think I'll have to talk with him. He deserves to hear the truth, or at least some of it." He wouldn't pour everything out, like he had with Snape, but wouldn't worry about every word, like he sometimes did with Sirius. Ron wanted to know, so he would have to handle the reality of his life.

There was something akin to approval in Snape's gaze. Harry tried not to show his exasperation at his body's reaction to such a look. This was getting ridiculous.

He grabbed yet another plate. "It's just so annoying to do this right now. Especially here. I like it in here. I like the way it's all right to just be. The silence." Harry didn't know if his words made any sense.

Snape stared at him for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Yes. Not having to deal with multitudes of idiots all the time is rather refreshing."

"So it's easier if there are just a few idiots?" Harry couldn't help saying that out loud.

The soft snort could almost be interpreted as laughter. Snape's voice was dry as he said, "Yes, Potter. It's definitely easier with just a few idiots."

Harry couldn't help craning his neck again to look at Snape. There was that glint in his eyes again, the faint glimmer of amusement over a shared joke. It made Harry's knees go weak. That dark gaze had no trace of malice and he felt like he could stand here forever, just staring into Snape's eyes.

"I assume you've made plans with Mr. Weasley." There was something strange in the silence that made Snape realize it was becoming uncomfortable. He saw Harry blink owlishly as if his mind had drifted somewhere. Then there was a hesitant nod. "Good. I will make sure Mr. Malfoy will not interrupt you."

The words made Harry jolt out of his stupor. Nodding, he turned his attention back to the dishes, wishing that Snape would take that as a proper answer. His whole being was tingling, and it was definitely getting too hot in here. If he tried to say anything right now, it would come out as a pitiful croak.

He ignored his slightly shaking hands as he grabbed a glass and started to scrub it. Hearing Snape walk out of the kitchen quietly was a relief.

Still, he had to spend a few minutes calming his breath after finishing with the dishes. He couldn't go and babble with Ron like this.

It was like being transported a couple of years back in time, when he had been enthusiastic about the whole idea of getting together with an attractive person. When the prospect of a simple touch had been as exciting as shagging itself. He couldn't understand what was making him act like that now. His body hadn't reacted this strongly -- or at all -- for a long time. Pathetically long time.

He didn't know why this was happening with Snape, even though the man wasn't really ugly or disgusting like he'd thought for years now. Just like he'd thought he was a total monster. Another misconception.

Seemed like he'd been having those a lot during the years.

His friendship with Ron wasn't one. It was sometimes difficult and not perfect, but it was one of the best things in his life. Concentrating on that, he was able to drive away the other, more confusing thoughts.

Leaving the kitchen was harder than he'd expected. His thoughts were far from clear. He knew Ron would be waiting for some kind of an explanation for everything that had happened, but he had none to offer. Nothing that would make everything all right, or that would make his friend really understand what was going on in his life.

Still, he walked across the dining area towards the living room without hesitations. They'd had problems before and they'd survived them. It couldn't be worse than some of the things they'd been through.

The slight scent of sulfur was the only reminder of the Potions exam. Everything else was just the way it had always been, the small cozy room devoid of scrolls and cauldrons. Ron was sprawled on the floor, absentmindedly poking at the small chess pieces in front of him.

Harry sat on the floor on the other side of the chess board. The pieces were already looking excited at the prospect of the game.

For a moment, it was like old times. Ron didn't say anything as he made his opening gambit. It was a reflex by now. Then he looked up, and the sense of familiarity disappeared. There had rarely been such a look in his eyes.

It was something Harry didn't want to see, especially when he suspected that he was the reason for it all.

"Okay. You've been doing extra secret Order stuff, fought Death Eaters and bonded with some creepy people without Hermione and me ever noticing." It wasn't a question. Ron was simply listing the facts he had finally figured out. "So is there something else I need to know? Some big thing that's going to change the world?"

"Not really." Harry figured that technically, his new weird thoughts about Snape fit the 'bonding with creepy people' category.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then a quiet, "And the thing you told us last night? About... Well. You know?" Ron was keeping his gaze on the pieces.

It made Harry sigh. He had no idea how to say this gently. "About killing Death Eaters." He remembered seeing one fall, but he had cursed more than one, so there was a possibility that he had indeed killed others. At least that was what his mind usually whispered in the middle of the night when all the thoughts he'd tried to suppress came to haunt him.

A simple nod wouldn't be enough. Trying very hard not to think about the short inquiry with the people from the Ministry -- who had been strangely lenient with him for actually using magic outside Hogwarts -- Harry said, "Yes. It's true."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Not even trying to hide the hurt, Ron looked up from the board to stare at Harry. "You know you could have talked to us."

Harry sighed. "I know. I know, Ron. It's not that I..." He didn't know how to explain it.

"Yes?" Earlier, back in Hogwarts, or even a few days ago, Ron would have made some kind of a joke about the whole thing or then he would have yelled at Harry. Not now. If Harry really had doubts about coming to his friends with his troubles, he had to try to prove he was worrying for nothing.

"I don't..." Harry shook his head, not knowing exactly how to illustrate the whole thing to Ron. He simply moved one of the pawns.

Life was complicated as it was. He didn't want to make things all gloomy between him and Ron. He suspected it would happen eventually anyway, when they returned to Hogwarts and had to decide what to do next. It would be impossible to steer away from serious subjects here, but he was determined not to do it now or dwell on things that happened in the past.

"I don't have any idea of what to say." That for one was true. "It's just that everything around me is a mess. I guess I just wanted to have something that wasn't. Something good."

Harry couldn't explain it more. Didn't want to say a thing about how he'd thought his best friends in the world wouldn't understand what he was going through. His stomach cramped with an uncomfortable feeling. This was the most selfish thing he'd ever done; assuring that Ron and Hermione would indeed be the best thing in his life, untainted by all the darkness and killing.

Ron smiled hesitantly. He hadn't expected something like that. "Okay." It kind of made sense.

Now that Harry wasn't hiding and running away anymore, he didn't need all the details of things past. If Harry didn't want to talk, they wouldn't, at least about old stuff. Ron could relate to the reluctance to share all the deep and probably distressing thoughts since he didn't want to think about anything that had happened these past few days either. Being molested by Malfoy and then the awful Potions exam had been enough.

He just wanted to make Harry feel better; needed to do something to make things all right again. If it meant dodging certain issues, he could deal with that.

They sat in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the small chess pieces who yelled insults at each other, brandishing their small weapons and urging the players to get on with it. It was a comfortable silence, lacking all the anger and pain that had been so painfully obvious earlier.

"So... Who do you think will win the Quidditch Cup this year?" Ron smiled like a loon as he asked the familiar question. Even the fact that there was no way Gryffindor would win without their Seeker didn't manage to wipe away his smile.

Harry blinked a few times. Then he chuckled softly. "You want to talk about Quidditch?"

"Sure. Why not?" No need to make everyone miserable now. Ron just wanted everything to be like it used to be. Simple. "Let's talk about Quidditch. Or girls." Now there was genuine enthusiasm in his voice. Their two favorite things. It was funny how many hours they had already spent babbling about brooms and Quaffles and flying robes and good looking Ravenclaws, and never seemed to get bored by any of it.

A very sly smirk spread on Harry's lips as he thought about those two things. Everything had changed indeed. The last time he'd held a broom, he'd been sweeping the floor. Drooling after girls wasn't the first thing in his mind either.

Ron had never seen that expression on his friend's face before. It reminded him of Malfoy somehow. "Don't tell me you have girl trouble?" Maybe it wasn't a smirk but a leer. He grinned at the startled look that spread on Harry's face. Yep. Definitely.

"Um... No. Well, yes. Sort of." Wondering what to say, Harry looked around to make sure no one else was listening. He definitely didn't want Snape or Malfoy to hear this.

"Yeah?" Ron realized that this was exactly the thing that had been missing. Him and Harry talking about normal things. Not about the war or the Order or even school. Bonding, like two guys should.

Sprawling on the floor, he motioned with his hand, "Go on. I'm all ears."

They shared a grin at that, a memory of many such moments when that innocent comment had made Percy bristle.

It took Harry a moment to gather his thoughts. To his dismay, he couldn't even remember the last time they'd talked about stuff like this. It was probably some time last autumn, when he'd had a brief fling with that Ravenclaw. He didn't want to think about what that meant.

It had been months since he'd been with anyone. He just hadn't felt interested in getting together with yet another person who was after his fame.

"I think... I mean, there's someone I like. A lot." The words came out without difficulty. There were so many things he couldn't even think of sharing with Ron, he wanted to say something about this now, even if there was no way he could tell everything about this either.

Ron smirked. "I knew it! So, tell me all about her. What's her name? It's not that buck-toothed Hufflepuff, right?" He took a better position on the floor, leaning his back against the couch. This was just like old times.

"Um... I don't think I can tell you that." Considering Ron's liberal use of the absolutely wrong pronoun, Harry didn't think he should really go into it now. After all, he'd never been brave enough to really talk about that with his friends. Not beyond the hints and open flirting that should have made everything clear.

Widening his smirk, Ron let it go. He didn't need to know all details. Yet. "Okay. So is it serious?" He'd been through all sorts of relationships during the couple of years he'd been old enough to actually have closer relationships, and used to call himself an expert. He wondered if this was a friendship based crush thing where Harry would decide not to pursue the crush after all, like he and Hermione, or if it was more into the mating like minks thing like the brief, but satisfying fling he'd had with Lavender.

He refused to think about mocking grey gaze and hungry lips on his. That was not about relationship. That was something disgusting.

"I don't know. I mean, I haven't told... her yet. But I think it could be." Harry stammered, and not only because of the lie. He hadn't thought about the whole thing beyond his crazy attraction, knowing that nothing could ever happen between them. No matter how he'd find Snape desirable, he wasn't the kind of man who would ever seduce -- or allow himself to be seduced by -- a student.

Still, he felt like it was wrong to say these things. It had always been about honesty with Snape and talking about him behind his back was not honest. Lying about his gender was even worse.

He hated lies; the ones he had to tell and the ones his years with the Muggles had ingrained into his brain. Still, every time he tried to talk about this, he could remember Dudley waving his dress robes above his head, calling him a crossdressing queer, Uncle Vernon locking him into the cupboard for days after the unfortunate episode.

Taking a deep breath, he corrected. "Um. Him. I haven't told him yet."

Ron felt a tremor of relief run down his back. He had known all along that Harry might be interested in guys as well as girls, but he'd seemed reluctant to talk about it -- probably a Muggle thing, they seemed even weirder about dating than other pureblood wizards did. At least now he could some day tell Harry about the thing that Malfoy had done, and not lose his best friend because he didn't condone guys kissing guys. Of course he had definitely not kissed Malfoy. The git had kissed him.

"Oh. Cool. So it's a guy. No big." He thought for a moment. "It's not any of us, is it?" Seeing the frown, he elaborated, "I mean someone in our House? Like Seamus or something?" If Harry would join dissing the Cannons and the English team, he'd kick his arse.

Harry shook his head. "No! That's gross, Ron." Having the hots for someone he'd shared the bedroom since he was eleven was like wanting your brother.

"Good. Is it Bill? Hope not. He's straight, you know. Fred on the other hand..." Ron dodged the cushion thrown at him, and collapsed on the rug, laughing.

"You are just as barmy as Trelawney, you know. You start sprouting crap about a handsome dark haired stranger next, and I'm out of here." The words made Harry smile a secretive smile. A stern looking dark haired professor was a completely different thing. "Not one of your brothers. Don't worry. And stop asking. I am not going to tell you."

Ron sat up again, hugging the cushion against his chest. "Okay. Sorry." The glint in his eyes told him he wasn't really.

Groaning, Harry grabbed yet another cushion and threw it at Ron too. A moment later he was dodging it as it was flung back. A short cushion fight followed, leaving them both breathless with laughter. He knew that Ron would definitely tease him about the mystery man later on, but couldn't resent the idea, remembering times when it had been the other way around. Simple bantering was exactly what they needed now, a reminder of their friendship that had grown firm enough to survive anything.

On the board, the pieces grumbled more as they realized that the two young wizards were not paying any attention on them again.

---

Comments

[nicholsa.livejournal.com]

cute chapter..I like the Harry and Ron friend time! :D

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

:) Heh, it's like... 'Friendship. Because you can't shag all the time.'

[ravenrosebud.livejournal.com]

another excellent chapter. kudos to Harry for having the nerve to tell Ron the truth about his feelings being for a guy. Love the tension that is growing between Harry and Snape. Poor, poor confused Ron. Can't wait to see how these relationships play out.

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

I think that even though Harry has still things to think about, he's tired of lying. So he tells the truth even when it may hurt him.

:) Ron is so damn... young! But cute.

[duskspoken.livejournal.com]

Ron's so naive sometimes. ;) He knows he enjoyed it! :D

And the whole Ron and Harry scene was good. They needed some time to theirselves. :)

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Ron is damn stubborn! He's not going to admit anything soon... No matter how much he enjoyed it.

I like friendship scenes... Even long fics usually just deal with the romance like people lose everything about their old lives when they find love.

*boggles*

[duskspoken.livejournal.com]

*sigh* Men period are stubborn.

I love them. I think people usually don't write them because they themselves stop talking to a lot of their friends when they get in relationships. I've got many friends who've done that.

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

I really hate thinking it's a women thing, but unfortunately it kinda might be. Men usually want to go to the pub with their mates even when they are in love and women think that the world should now revolve around their new bf.

*sad*

[duskspoken.livejournal.com]

I daresay that it is a woman thing. And most fanfics are written by females ;) *sigh*

[ashenv.livejournal.com]

Gah, my net connection is awful these days, so I can't leave feedback as much as I'd like - anyway, I'm following it, love the way it is moving. Great interaction between Ron and Harry here, I especially like how you are writing Ron. He is writen as a total prat way too many times in ff so I love this. Can't wait for some Harry/Sevvie kisses! :D

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

I like Ron! He may be a total wanker but he's an adorable wanker!

:)

And kissing coming up soon next!

[yura-slash.livejournal.com]

i'm glad that harry told ron it was a "he" that he liked. and i think that malfoy needs to kiss ron again ^^

[sua-lay.livejournal.com]

Yup, Harry sure is brave. And hot damn yeah! Draco sure needs to kiss Ron again. not to mention shagging on the kitchen table