Harry Potter/Ron Weasley - Blue Christmas- One Shot - PG-13
Title:Blue Christmas
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Summary: Its Christmas Eve and Ron is about to do something he'll regret.
Warning: Angst/Romance, F;uff
Author Info: Beta-d by the lovely kcstories
Ron stared at Harry across the room, smiling and joking with the rest of his department. It was Christmas Eve and the Ministry’s dedicated Aurors had finally decided that enough was enough and they should be out celebrating with the rest of the world. After all, if you couldn’t take time off and have some fun at Christmas, when could you?
Except, Ron wasn’t having any fun. The last few weeks had been hell on his nerves and he didn’t quite know what to do. He loved his job; he respected everybody in his team and they were a flawless unit; he was absolutely professional, except when it came to Harry. The problem with Harry was that he had never quite gotten rid of that hero complex. He pushed himself further than everyone else and this often led to one thing, him becoming hurt. Such an occasion had arisen just a few days earlier when they had been tracking a troll, which had gone on a rampage in a Muggle village. The Aurors had been called in because, considering the total lack of a local troll population in that village, this troll’s sudden appearance had been regarded as considerably suspicious. Regardless of how it had gotten there, though, the troll had to be captured, and who had taken it upon himself to do so? Harry-bloody-Potter. Ron had watched in horror as the troll, which had been considerably larger than the one they had encountered as eleven-year-olds, had swung at Harry, dodging Harry’s stunning spells and almost knocking Harry’s head off. It had only been a few seconds before the rest of their team had surged forward to help Harry out, but in that moment when he’d seen the troll’s enormous wooden club (where did they get those from anyway?) almost take off Harry’s head, he had realized he couldn’t do this anymore.
He had been in love with Harry for years. He knew it; Hermione knew it, and well, hell, everyone knew it, apart from Harry himself. Ron had sworn Hermione to secrecy when she had realised the truth a year or so earlier. They had been on a beach when she had caught Ron licking his lips while watching water travel down Harry’s stomach as he came out of the water. Hermione had wanted to talk about things and analyse his feelings, but Ron had refused. He had never intended to do anything about it. Harry could have anyone he liked and had probably never even thought of Ron in such a way. There was no way Ron was ruining their friendship over this. He just planned on ruining his own career. Who in their right mind could work with someone they loved and continually watch said person throw themselves into death defying situations? It was nerve-wracking and Ron couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t like Harry was going to change any time soon. He was absolutely fearless and had been since before he consciously knew he was being heroic, and who was Ron to ask him to change? But Ron couldn’t stick around to watch him, either.
Ron sighed heavily into his pint and surveyed his surroundings. They’d chosen a Muggle pub in Camden to drink tonight. They chose a different place every time they went out, and Camden was particularly helpful, because of all the people covered in Muggle tattoos and metal, who made their strange bunch look normal. The pub was old and large and was pumping out Muggle rock music so you could barely hear a single thing the person next to you was saying, but they’d been there before and enjoyed it. They had taken to frequenting the balcony, which overlooked the main area of the pub and were sprawled out over the sofas. Ron was sitting on the sofa furthest from Harry, who was sat between Tonks (their department head) and Seamus Finnegan. He was laughing at something Seamus was saying and Ron felt a pang of hurt. He hated to give all this up, but he really couldn’t stand it any longer. Maybe just some time away would do him good. After all, if he saw Harry every day, how was he ever going to get over him?
Ron checked his watch. It was almost nine o’clock. He’d promised his mother he’d be over early the next morning and he was desperate for an excuse to leave, just so he could have some time to think about what he wanted to do next. He tipped his head back and drained his pint and sat the empty glass on the low table that separated two of the sofas. He stood up and ambled over burly legs and around the sofa until he was standing in front of Harry. The dark haired man looked up at him with drunken bleary eyes and smiled.
“Ron!” Harry grinned and held up his hand for Ron to pull him out of his seat. Ron obliged and couldn’t stop himself from pulling a little too hard so the slighter man ended up falling against his broad chest.
“Oomph, careful there, Ron! You don’t know your own strength.” Harry’s face was flushed and he looked gorgeous and a small traitorous part of Ron’s mind asked if he could really give up seeing that every day. He knew he had to. Harry stepped back and smiled; waiting for Ron to say whatever it was he had come across the room to say.
“I’m leaving, Harry,” Ron said as loudly as he could, to be heard over the blaring music
“What? You can’t leave! It’s only early!” Harry attempted to look at his watch, but considering he was blind drunk and there was no watch on his wrist to begin with, he failed miserably.
“I know, but I’ve got to be at Mum’s early tomorrow, haven’t I?” Ron responded feebly.
“Yeah, so do I! What are a few more drinks?” Harry actually looked as if he was pouting, a grown man of twenty-four pouting.
“I’m just not in the mood, mate,” Ron told him truthfully and Harry shot him a concerned look. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Ron smiled. He knew Harry would do anything to help him, but there were some things that even his superhero of a best mate couldn’t fix.
“No, Harry. You stay here. I’m just going to go, alright? Happy Christmas, mate.” Ron smiled as genuinely as he could, patted him on the shoulder and turned away from Harry, waving to his colleagues who shouted after him as he made his way down the wrought iron spiral staircase to the main area of the pub. He bustled his way through the crowd and out the back door into a relatively quiet back street. He sighed wearily. He just needed to get home, and to his nice, warm, Harry-free environment and everything would be alright. He began to slowly walk towards a more secluded back alley he knew they had used to Apparate from before, when he heard his name being called and he froze.
“Ron; Ron wait up!” Harry called out and Ron felt his shoulders slump in defeat. He turned to face Harry who was jogging slowly along the street towards him.
“What is it, Harry?” Ron failed to keep the exasperation out his voice and winced at Harry’s facial expression.
“Sorry to bother you, just wanted to make sure my best mate is alright, since he’s been a right grumpy git the past few days and just a few notches up from suicidal this evening,” Harry snapped and crossed his arms over his thin chest.
“You’re not bothering me, Harry. I just want to go home. I’m tired and it’s been a long week. I’m not suicidal, sorry to ruin your evening, go back inside,” Ron replied, feeling guilty for taking out his mood on Harry.
“No, I won’t go back inside! I’m sick of this, Ron. You have these moods that come out of nowhere and you won’t talk to me about them, but then you don’t talk to me about much of anything these days and I’m really fed up with being shut out of my best friend’s life!” Harry shouted, probably a little more loudly than he had intended, and Ron stood there, staring at him, unable to think of a reasonable response. After a few moments’ pause, Harry sighed sadly.
“Don’t you have anything to say in your defence? ‘I’m sorry Harry, I’m a stupid git’, anything? Ron, come on!” Harry stared at him with those bloody green eyes and Ron couldn’t help himself. He had to shut the little bastard up somehow. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth.
“There. Is that a good enough answer for you?” Ron whispered bitterly as he moved back from the brief, chaste kiss and glared down at Harry, hating him at the moment for having pushed him too far.
“Ron?”
Ron backed away. He really wasn’t in the mood. He knew he couldn’t think of any reasonable excuse for his lapse in judgement and he really just wanted to get home and go to bed.
“Ron, would you just wait!” Harry headed after him, but Ron recklessly Apparated away, in full view of any Muggle who might have been in the area.
*
Ron didn’t sleep well that night. He kept berating himself for being so stupid. Sure, he hadn’t flat out snogged Harry senseless in the middle of the street, but he’d kissed him all the same and he couldn’t take that back now. He was dreading going to The Burrow and took forever to get ready, even if he knew it would annoy his mother. He wasn’t looking forward to facing Harry. Maybe he could just avoid him completely. It was a large enough family after all.
When he had completely run out of excuses not to leave, he heaved the enormous sack full of presents he had bought for everyone and Apparated to his parents’ house.
He could hear the laughing and ruckus caused by the numerous grandchildren inside and smiled softly. If he had to face Harry today then at least he’d be at home. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked through the front door to the greetings of numerous redheads and a few others. Ron and Ginny were the only two Weasleys without a significant other, and strangely enough, Ron believed they were both pining over the same person.
The twins were both married, surprisingly. George to a quiet Ravenclaw. It seemed she was the Ying to George’s Yang and calmed him down a great deal. She reminded Ron a lot of Hermione, only a little older and the two women had become fast friends. Fred had been dating Angelina Johnson on and off since Hogwarts and when Angelina had fallen pregnant, they had decided to bite the bullet and settle down. They were both as fiery as one another and fought constantly but anyone who met them knew they were mad about one another. Their son had only been born recently and was the youngest of four grandchildren.
Percy had died in the war, and was rarely mentioned. He never did reconcile with his parents and family and every one of the Weasleys had a different emotion attached to the middle child and it was best to just not mention him.
Bill had been married to Fleur since the summer of Ron’s sixth year and they had two children. Emily, who was four, and Jacqueline, who was three. Both little girls looked exactly like their mother but sported strawberry blonde hair and were freckled like their father, who was fiercely protective of them. Bill had not changed much since he had been attacked; he just became a little more irritable around the full moon.
Charlie was the surprise; well actually, Charlie and Hermione were the surprise. After the war, after everything that had happened with the “Golden Trio” as the press had dubbed them, Ron and Hermione had slipped back into friendship. They had ignored the subject of “them”, until the Harry incident on the beach when he had been forced to confess that he was gay and she had told him then that she had been seeing Charlie for a long time. She had been working with Remus to create an offshoot department from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to help gain rights for various species of Magical creatures when she had gone to Romania to talk to Charlie about the creatures he had encountered and his experiences with them, and then the second elsdest Weasley had shamelsessley seduced her. They had been dating ever since and had a two year old son together. Much to Molly’s distress, though, the couple refused to marry until they were utterly ready.
Which just left Ron and Ginny, the pathetically pining duo that they were.
Ron made his way into the house properly and relieved himself of the burden of gifts, placing them by the tree, next to a number of other sacks similar to his own. He sighed heavily and turned back to his family who were all fussing over the four children. Hermione and Charlie lived between London and Romania, and didn’t always have time to make visits with the rest of the family, while Fleur and Bill lived in the Magical Quarter in Paris and were only visiting for the week. Everyone was trying to make the most of their time together, but with Harry in the room, all Ron wanted to do was escape. Ron’s father was behind the bar in the corner of the living room, handing Butterbears and Firewhiskeys to his guests. Ron gratefully accepted a glass, before moving around the room hugging his brothers and kissing his sister-in-law’s cheeks, pointedly ignoring Harry who he knew was standing across the room from him, talking to Hermione and Ben, who sat in her arms.
Molly bustled into the room, levitating plates of appetisers behind her. They had been mingling since eating lunch, planning to open all the presents in the evening, with full, sated bellies.
“Ron, you’re awfully late, you know! There wll be food on the table in twenty minutes. You almost didn’t make it!” Molly reprimanded as she bustled past.
Ron rolled his eyes as the twins laughed at him. Some things never changed.
As Molly cleared a path, Harry took the opportunity to make his way over to Ron, making his friend choke on his drink.
“Ron, can we please talk?” Harry asked sternly and Ron looked around the room, desperate to find any means of escape.
“Um… Harry, can’t this wait until later? Dinner’s almost ready and I want to get some of Mum’s mince pies.” Ron was still pointing towards the floating tray as Harry dragged him out of the room, into the kitchen and out the back door, which slammed behind them.
“Harry, there’s really nothing to talk about!” Ron insisted and snatched his arm back.
“Oh, really? I dinstinctly remember you kissing me last night. That needs talking about!”
Ron looked horrified and tried to clamp his hand over Harry’s mouth, but the slighter man avoided him.
“Harry, would you just shut it? My parents don’t even know that I’m gay, let alone that I go around kissing people!”
“Not just people, Ron! Me! You kissed me!”
“I know! Just be quiet about it, would you?!”
“And then you left. You kissed me and then you just left without saying a single thing! How do you think that makes me feel?” Harry seethed and poked Ron in the chest, which Ron thought was gorgeous.
“I don’t know, Harry! I should never have done it, okay! I’m sorry!”
“Sorry?!” Harry shouted and Ron flinched. He had really fucked things up. “You’re sorry you walked away, or sorry you kissed me?”
“What? Harry, are you mad? Both! I should never have taken advantage of you like that!”
“Ron, you absolute idiot! You’re a bloody fool, do you know that?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Ron replied meekly. He knew had definitely gone a little pale.
“I’ve wanted you to kiss me for ages, you absolute prat!”
Ron stared at Harry as if he’d grown an extra head.
“Ron, say something, for goodness sake! I’ve just bared my soul to you!” Harry sounded so uncertain and it woke Ron from his stupor. He surged forward and claimed Harry’s lips, his large hands holding his face in place. Harry sighed into his mouth and Ron kissed him harder. They broke away after a short while and Harry stared up at him hazily.
“Harry…”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Harry whispered, Ron’s hands still settled on his cheeks.
“I love you, Harry,” Ron breathed and leaned forward to kiss Harry once more, but Harry jerked back.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course!” Ron sounded affronted, making Harry grin.
“Wel, then that’s okay,” Harry replied cheekily and kissed Ron hard on the mouth for several moments until they were interrupted by a sharp cough. They sprang apart and Ron sighed in relief to find Hermione standing in the doorway looking at them in that calculating way she did.
“Your Mum asked me to come and get you. She wants you two to help set the table for dinner with your brothers.” Hermione grinned and disappeared back into the house.
“I suppose we’d better do as she says.” Harry groaned, and grabbed Ron’s hand.
“Come to my flat later?” Ron asked unsurely as he squeezed Harry’s hand.
“Sure.” Harry smiled softly and squeezed back. Ron pecked him quickly on the lips and they walked back inside. When Ron reached the door, he stopped and turned to Harry. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”
Harry smiled at him beautifully.
“You too.” Ron turned to head back into the kitchen when Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. “Ron? Just so you know, I love you too.” Ron smiled and they finally made it back inside for Christmas dinner.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Summary: Its Christmas Eve and Ron is about to do something he'll regret.
Warning: Angst/Romance, F;uff
Author Info: Beta-d by the lovely kcstories
Ron stared at Harry across the room, smiling and joking with the rest of his department. It was Christmas Eve and the Ministry’s dedicated Aurors had finally decided that enough was enough and they should be out celebrating with the rest of the world. After all, if you couldn’t take time off and have some fun at Christmas, when could you?
Except, Ron wasn’t having any fun. The last few weeks had been hell on his nerves and he didn’t quite know what to do. He loved his job; he respected everybody in his team and they were a flawless unit; he was absolutely professional, except when it came to Harry. The problem with Harry was that he had never quite gotten rid of that hero complex. He pushed himself further than everyone else and this often led to one thing, him becoming hurt. Such an occasion had arisen just a few days earlier when they had been tracking a troll, which had gone on a rampage in a Muggle village. The Aurors had been called in because, considering the total lack of a local troll population in that village, this troll’s sudden appearance had been regarded as considerably suspicious. Regardless of how it had gotten there, though, the troll had to be captured, and who had taken it upon himself to do so? Harry-bloody-Potter. Ron had watched in horror as the troll, which had been considerably larger than the one they had encountered as eleven-year-olds, had swung at Harry, dodging Harry’s stunning spells and almost knocking Harry’s head off. It had only been a few seconds before the rest of their team had surged forward to help Harry out, but in that moment when he’d seen the troll’s enormous wooden club (where did they get those from anyway?) almost take off Harry’s head, he had realized he couldn’t do this anymore.
He had been in love with Harry for years. He knew it; Hermione knew it, and well, hell, everyone knew it, apart from Harry himself. Ron had sworn Hermione to secrecy when she had realised the truth a year or so earlier. They had been on a beach when she had caught Ron licking his lips while watching water travel down Harry’s stomach as he came out of the water. Hermione had wanted to talk about things and analyse his feelings, but Ron had refused. He had never intended to do anything about it. Harry could have anyone he liked and had probably never even thought of Ron in such a way. There was no way Ron was ruining their friendship over this. He just planned on ruining his own career. Who in their right mind could work with someone they loved and continually watch said person throw themselves into death defying situations? It was nerve-wracking and Ron couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t like Harry was going to change any time soon. He was absolutely fearless and had been since before he consciously knew he was being heroic, and who was Ron to ask him to change? But Ron couldn’t stick around to watch him, either.
Ron sighed heavily into his pint and surveyed his surroundings. They’d chosen a Muggle pub in Camden to drink tonight. They chose a different place every time they went out, and Camden was particularly helpful, because of all the people covered in Muggle tattoos and metal, who made their strange bunch look normal. The pub was old and large and was pumping out Muggle rock music so you could barely hear a single thing the person next to you was saying, but they’d been there before and enjoyed it. They had taken to frequenting the balcony, which overlooked the main area of the pub and were sprawled out over the sofas. Ron was sitting on the sofa furthest from Harry, who was sat between Tonks (their department head) and Seamus Finnegan. He was laughing at something Seamus was saying and Ron felt a pang of hurt. He hated to give all this up, but he really couldn’t stand it any longer. Maybe just some time away would do him good. After all, if he saw Harry every day, how was he ever going to get over him?
Ron checked his watch. It was almost nine o’clock. He’d promised his mother he’d be over early the next morning and he was desperate for an excuse to leave, just so he could have some time to think about what he wanted to do next. He tipped his head back and drained his pint and sat the empty glass on the low table that separated two of the sofas. He stood up and ambled over burly legs and around the sofa until he was standing in front of Harry. The dark haired man looked up at him with drunken bleary eyes and smiled.
“Ron!” Harry grinned and held up his hand for Ron to pull him out of his seat. Ron obliged and couldn’t stop himself from pulling a little too hard so the slighter man ended up falling against his broad chest.
“Oomph, careful there, Ron! You don’t know your own strength.” Harry’s face was flushed and he looked gorgeous and a small traitorous part of Ron’s mind asked if he could really give up seeing that every day. He knew he had to. Harry stepped back and smiled; waiting for Ron to say whatever it was he had come across the room to say.
“I’m leaving, Harry,” Ron said as loudly as he could, to be heard over the blaring music
“What? You can’t leave! It’s only early!” Harry attempted to look at his watch, but considering he was blind drunk and there was no watch on his wrist to begin with, he failed miserably.
“I know, but I’ve got to be at Mum’s early tomorrow, haven’t I?” Ron responded feebly.
“Yeah, so do I! What are a few more drinks?” Harry actually looked as if he was pouting, a grown man of twenty-four pouting.
“I’m just not in the mood, mate,” Ron told him truthfully and Harry shot him a concerned look. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Ron smiled. He knew Harry would do anything to help him, but there were some things that even his superhero of a best mate couldn’t fix.
“No, Harry. You stay here. I’m just going to go, alright? Happy Christmas, mate.” Ron smiled as genuinely as he could, patted him on the shoulder and turned away from Harry, waving to his colleagues who shouted after him as he made his way down the wrought iron spiral staircase to the main area of the pub. He bustled his way through the crowd and out the back door into a relatively quiet back street. He sighed wearily. He just needed to get home, and to his nice, warm, Harry-free environment and everything would be alright. He began to slowly walk towards a more secluded back alley he knew they had used to Apparate from before, when he heard his name being called and he froze.
“Ron; Ron wait up!” Harry called out and Ron felt his shoulders slump in defeat. He turned to face Harry who was jogging slowly along the street towards him.
“What is it, Harry?” Ron failed to keep the exasperation out his voice and winced at Harry’s facial expression.
“Sorry to bother you, just wanted to make sure my best mate is alright, since he’s been a right grumpy git the past few days and just a few notches up from suicidal this evening,” Harry snapped and crossed his arms over his thin chest.
“You’re not bothering me, Harry. I just want to go home. I’m tired and it’s been a long week. I’m not suicidal, sorry to ruin your evening, go back inside,” Ron replied, feeling guilty for taking out his mood on Harry.
“No, I won’t go back inside! I’m sick of this, Ron. You have these moods that come out of nowhere and you won’t talk to me about them, but then you don’t talk to me about much of anything these days and I’m really fed up with being shut out of my best friend’s life!” Harry shouted, probably a little more loudly than he had intended, and Ron stood there, staring at him, unable to think of a reasonable response. After a few moments’ pause, Harry sighed sadly.
“Don’t you have anything to say in your defence? ‘I’m sorry Harry, I’m a stupid git’, anything? Ron, come on!” Harry stared at him with those bloody green eyes and Ron couldn’t help himself. He had to shut the little bastard up somehow. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth.
“There. Is that a good enough answer for you?” Ron whispered bitterly as he moved back from the brief, chaste kiss and glared down at Harry, hating him at the moment for having pushed him too far.
“Ron?”
Ron backed away. He really wasn’t in the mood. He knew he couldn’t think of any reasonable excuse for his lapse in judgement and he really just wanted to get home and go to bed.
“Ron, would you just wait!” Harry headed after him, but Ron recklessly Apparated away, in full view of any Muggle who might have been in the area.
*
Ron didn’t sleep well that night. He kept berating himself for being so stupid. Sure, he hadn’t flat out snogged Harry senseless in the middle of the street, but he’d kissed him all the same and he couldn’t take that back now. He was dreading going to The Burrow and took forever to get ready, even if he knew it would annoy his mother. He wasn’t looking forward to facing Harry. Maybe he could just avoid him completely. It was a large enough family after all.
When he had completely run out of excuses not to leave, he heaved the enormous sack full of presents he had bought for everyone and Apparated to his parents’ house.
He could hear the laughing and ruckus caused by the numerous grandchildren inside and smiled softly. If he had to face Harry today then at least he’d be at home. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked through the front door to the greetings of numerous redheads and a few others. Ron and Ginny were the only two Weasleys without a significant other, and strangely enough, Ron believed they were both pining over the same person.
The twins were both married, surprisingly. George to a quiet Ravenclaw. It seemed she was the Ying to George’s Yang and calmed him down a great deal. She reminded Ron a lot of Hermione, only a little older and the two women had become fast friends. Fred had been dating Angelina Johnson on and off since Hogwarts and when Angelina had fallen pregnant, they had decided to bite the bullet and settle down. They were both as fiery as one another and fought constantly but anyone who met them knew they were mad about one another. Their son had only been born recently and was the youngest of four grandchildren.
Percy had died in the war, and was rarely mentioned. He never did reconcile with his parents and family and every one of the Weasleys had a different emotion attached to the middle child and it was best to just not mention him.
Bill had been married to Fleur since the summer of Ron’s sixth year and they had two children. Emily, who was four, and Jacqueline, who was three. Both little girls looked exactly like their mother but sported strawberry blonde hair and were freckled like their father, who was fiercely protective of them. Bill had not changed much since he had been attacked; he just became a little more irritable around the full moon.
Charlie was the surprise; well actually, Charlie and Hermione were the surprise. After the war, after everything that had happened with the “Golden Trio” as the press had dubbed them, Ron and Hermione had slipped back into friendship. They had ignored the subject of “them”, until the Harry incident on the beach when he had been forced to confess that he was gay and she had told him then that she had been seeing Charlie for a long time. She had been working with Remus to create an offshoot department from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to help gain rights for various species of Magical creatures when she had gone to Romania to talk to Charlie about the creatures he had encountered and his experiences with them, and then the second elsdest Weasley had shamelsessley seduced her. They had been dating ever since and had a two year old son together. Much to Molly’s distress, though, the couple refused to marry until they were utterly ready.
Which just left Ron and Ginny, the pathetically pining duo that they were.
Ron made his way into the house properly and relieved himself of the burden of gifts, placing them by the tree, next to a number of other sacks similar to his own. He sighed heavily and turned back to his family who were all fussing over the four children. Hermione and Charlie lived between London and Romania, and didn’t always have time to make visits with the rest of the family, while Fleur and Bill lived in the Magical Quarter in Paris and were only visiting for the week. Everyone was trying to make the most of their time together, but with Harry in the room, all Ron wanted to do was escape. Ron’s father was behind the bar in the corner of the living room, handing Butterbears and Firewhiskeys to his guests. Ron gratefully accepted a glass, before moving around the room hugging his brothers and kissing his sister-in-law’s cheeks, pointedly ignoring Harry who he knew was standing across the room from him, talking to Hermione and Ben, who sat in her arms.
Molly bustled into the room, levitating plates of appetisers behind her. They had been mingling since eating lunch, planning to open all the presents in the evening, with full, sated bellies.
“Ron, you’re awfully late, you know! There wll be food on the table in twenty minutes. You almost didn’t make it!” Molly reprimanded as she bustled past.
Ron rolled his eyes as the twins laughed at him. Some things never changed.
As Molly cleared a path, Harry took the opportunity to make his way over to Ron, making his friend choke on his drink.
“Ron, can we please talk?” Harry asked sternly and Ron looked around the room, desperate to find any means of escape.
“Um… Harry, can’t this wait until later? Dinner’s almost ready and I want to get some of Mum’s mince pies.” Ron was still pointing towards the floating tray as Harry dragged him out of the room, into the kitchen and out the back door, which slammed behind them.
“Harry, there’s really nothing to talk about!” Ron insisted and snatched his arm back.
“Oh, really? I dinstinctly remember you kissing me last night. That needs talking about!”
Ron looked horrified and tried to clamp his hand over Harry’s mouth, but the slighter man avoided him.
“Harry, would you just shut it? My parents don’t even know that I’m gay, let alone that I go around kissing people!”
“Not just people, Ron! Me! You kissed me!”
“I know! Just be quiet about it, would you?!”
“And then you left. You kissed me and then you just left without saying a single thing! How do you think that makes me feel?” Harry seethed and poked Ron in the chest, which Ron thought was gorgeous.
“I don’t know, Harry! I should never have done it, okay! I’m sorry!”
“Sorry?!” Harry shouted and Ron flinched. He had really fucked things up. “You’re sorry you walked away, or sorry you kissed me?”
“What? Harry, are you mad? Both! I should never have taken advantage of you like that!”
“Ron, you absolute idiot! You’re a bloody fool, do you know that?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Ron replied meekly. He knew had definitely gone a little pale.
“I’ve wanted you to kiss me for ages, you absolute prat!”
Ron stared at Harry as if he’d grown an extra head.
“Ron, say something, for goodness sake! I’ve just bared my soul to you!” Harry sounded so uncertain and it woke Ron from his stupor. He surged forward and claimed Harry’s lips, his large hands holding his face in place. Harry sighed into his mouth and Ron kissed him harder. They broke away after a short while and Harry stared up at him hazily.
“Harry…”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Harry whispered, Ron’s hands still settled on his cheeks.
“I love you, Harry,” Ron breathed and leaned forward to kiss Harry once more, but Harry jerked back.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course!” Ron sounded affronted, making Harry grin.
“Wel, then that’s okay,” Harry replied cheekily and kissed Ron hard on the mouth for several moments until they were interrupted by a sharp cough. They sprang apart and Ron sighed in relief to find Hermione standing in the doorway looking at them in that calculating way she did.
“Your Mum asked me to come and get you. She wants you two to help set the table for dinner with your brothers.” Hermione grinned and disappeared back into the house.
“I suppose we’d better do as she says.” Harry groaned, and grabbed Ron’s hand.
“Come to my flat later?” Ron asked unsurely as he squeezed Harry’s hand.
“Sure.” Harry smiled softly and squeezed back. Ron pecked him quickly on the lips and they walked back inside. When Ron reached the door, he stopped and turned to Harry. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”
Harry smiled at him beautifully.
“You too.” Ron turned to head back into the kitchen when Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. “Ron? Just so you know, I love you too.” Ron smiled and they finally made it back inside for Christmas dinner.