Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - Part 9
This is the final installment of Harry Potter and the Odour of the Pheromones - By Kate's Brain and Magic of Isis.
If you've enjoyed our fic, please leave a comment, because we are feedback whores, plus, it gives us a chance to use the slut!Harry icon that Kate made for Sue.
**
Harry wandered down the garden, pulling his coat tight around him against the chilly air. He didn’t know what he could do to make things better between him and Ron, so Harry thought that avoidance was probably the best policy for the moment. He also suspected that Hermione would want to pin him down and question him.
Last night, everything had seemed so perfect. If only he had known how Ron would react, that he would be so mortified by what they had done. How could Harry repair their broken friendship? He kicked at a stone and watched as it hit an abandoned flower pot, cracking the clay and letting soil escape onto the lawn. He wished that the idea of using the potion on Ron had never occurred to him, that he hadn’t been responsible for messing with Ron’s head. If only he had played the part of the Gryffindor and told Ron outright, instead of letting his underhand Slytherin side come to the fore and relying on the effects of the potion.
“Did something go wrong last night?”
Harry looked round to see Charlie approaching.
“Yeah. I messed up,” Harry said, and together, they meandered further away from the house. “I shouldn’t have used the potion. He…he didn’t react too well this morning.”
“I noticed that much.”
“He’s completely freaked out by what we did. I’ve ruined everything now.”
Charlie stopped by a patch of Rhododendrons that was in the process of taking over the end of the garden.
“In here,” Charlie said, and Harry followed as Charlie clambered through the outer branches. Finding a large enough piece of trunk on which they could both sit, Charlie pulled Harry down next to him.
“Can I try taking your mind off of it for half an hour?” Charlie asked, and he cupped Harry’s face in his hands, pulling Harry closer for a kiss.
Charlie’s kisses were no different from the other day, but this time, Harry was unable to respond with the same enthusiasm as Charlie: it only reminded him of kissing Ron. After a few minutes of light brushes of tongues and lips, Charlie pulled back, frowning at Harry in concern.
“Being with Ron was much more than just sex to you, wasn’t it,” Charlie said, moving his arm around Harry and giving him a comforting squeeze. “I thought you were just after an experimental bunk-up with your best mate.”
“What am I going to do? He’s really upset about it.”
“Tell him about the potion.”
Harry sat back in alarm, only Charlie’s arm saving him from slipping backwards onto the muddy ground. “I can’t do that: he’ll hate me even more!”
“You’re acting as if you’ve screwed your friendship up for good, anyway. If you really do care about him, you should tell him the truth.”
Harry began shaking his head. “I can’t… I can’t tell him what I’ve done.”
“Even if it will make him feel better about himself? Let him understand why it happened. You owe him that much.”
Harry thought back to the cold stare he had been greeted with that morning. He hated knowing that he was responsible. Ron had done something he didn’t want to, because of him. Only Harry was able to explain it to Ron, to take away the disgust that Ron must be feeling with himself.
“I guess you’re right.” Harry knew that he might completely lose his best friend in the process, but he guessed that he had probably done that already.
Charlie pulled him close for one last kiss. “You’ll always be welcome to visit me in Romania,” he said. “Come along in the summer holidays, if you like.”
“Thanks, but it’s hard to think that far ahead, right now.”
**
As Harry climbed the stairs and stepped onto the landing, he could hear Fred and George rifling around in their room. Harry was not in the mood to deal with their innuendos, and so he softened his footsteps as he walked past the door. He froze when it suddenly opened.
“And where are you sneaking off to so sneakily?” Fred asked, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into the room.
“To see Ron.”
“He’s not there--” George said as he rummaged through the contents of his bag.
“--he went shopping with Mum earlier,” Fred said. “We noticed you two weren’t talking this morning. What’s up?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Harry said vaguely. He noticed Fred and George share a knowing glance, and he hastily redirected the conversation. “What did you want me for, anyway?”
“Have you seen a vial of that potion lying around?” Fred explained. “It’s like the ones we gave you, only it didn’t have a batch number.”
“Er…” Harry hesitated, not wanting to admit that he had helped himself to it.
“Harry, give it back,” George said with a grin. “There’s no point hoarding that one: it won’t work.”
Harry frowned. He knew for a fact that George was lying. “But… but it did.”
“You’ve already drunk it?” Fred asked. “When?”
“Last night. And it worked.”
The twins looked at each other and smirked. George started to chuckle and said, “You and Ron weren’t that ill, after all…”
“You scored with ickle Ronnikins!” Fred said with a smirk. “So why is Ron in such a foul mood today?”
“He only did it because of the potion, and now that it’s worn off, he’s appalled by what happened.”
“Harry, that can’t be the reason,” George insisted. “That vial you took, it didn’t have any mandrake root in it - that’s what activates the stuff.”
Harry glanced from one twin to the other. They didn’t seem to be winding him up, but it didn’t make sense. “Why would you keep it if it wasn’t any good?”
“We were going to test it out on the gnomes,” Fred explained. “Thought it’d be amusing.”
“We told you we didn’t have any more,” George added.
“But I thought you had kept it for your own use,” Harry said, wondering why on earth they would persist in claiming it was a dud vial.
“Why would I do that?” George asked, and Harry was surprised by his baffled expression. “I’m allergic to it; remember?”
Harry could’ve kicked himself. That’s what was niggling at the back of his brain when Charlie said that George must have his own secret stash. There was no reason for the twins to lie to him about this, no reason to keep any vials from him. But if the potion really didn’t work, then what was wrong with Ron?
“Anyway, what did you want that one for?” Fred asked. “We thought you had a bottle left.”
“I used it,” Harry said absently, still mulling over what could possibly be up with Ron.
“You’ve bloody well shagged Charlie, haven’t you,” George exclaimed. Harry snapped his head up to find George looking at him shrewdly.
“Nah! You haven’t!” Fred said in disbelief.
“Well, who else has been here?” George said, “Ginny and Hermione and Mum-”
“-would run a mile.-” Fred continued before being cut off by George.
“--Bill, Fleur, Sirius and Remus-”
“--only came down for one day. Charlie’s the only one who’s been staying here.” Fred looked at Harry appraisingly. “Unless… Harry, please tell me you haven’t shagged our dad!”
“No!”
“So, what’s Charlie like?” George asked. “Is he really as kinky as his mates made out?”
Harry could feel his face heating up and betraying him. “That’s none of your business,” he said haughtily. This was not helping him to work out what to do about Ron.
“Here, you didn’t go calling Ron by Charlie’s name when you were shagging him?” Fred said with a laugh. “I would’ve loved to see Ron’s face if you did that. I bet that would’ve made a pretty picture!”
George started to laugh, too, and said. “It’d explain why he’s not talking to you!” He suddenly stopped laughing, his expression turning more serious. “He doesn’t know about you and me, does he? I can imagine the earache I’d get from Ron for giving a blow job to his best mate; he’d never let--”
The sound of a door slamming cut George off. A wave of panic shot through Harry. What if someone had overheard their conversation? He stepped out into the corridor and was alarmed to see that the only door closed was the one to his and Ron’s bedroom.
“I think Ron’s back from shopping,” Harry said. “I’d better talk to him.”
His feet were like lead weights as he slowly walked closer to their room, his hand shaking as he reached for the handle. Please don’t let Ron have heard anything, he thought. The door swung open. Ron looked up and glared at him.
“Having a good laugh with Fred and George about me, were you?” he asked acidly.
“No, Ron; it wasn’t like that. They guessed…they were only messing-”
“I don’t care. Go away.”
“But I don’t understand. What have I done to upset you so much?”
“What is wrong with you, Harry? You not content to just turn me into another notch on your bedpost? Why can’t you leave it be? I can’t believe I gave in…. I wasn’t going to let you use me.”
“Use you?” Harry repeated stunned. He couldn’t comprehend why Ron would ever think that. “I was-”
“And now, not only are you discussing what we did with Fred and George, but I find out that you’ve done things with George and Charlie, as well as all those others you’ve had. I mean, fucking hell, Harry; just how many people have you been with?”
Harry’s jaw dropped and he sat down heavily on his bed. Ron knew. All this time, Harry had been trying to keep his encounters a secret, but Ron knew anyway. Harry watched in a bewildered silence as Ron started to pace across the room.
“Did you know that from the Hospital Wing you can see right into the thicket? The one that runs by the path into Hogsmeade,” Ron said, his face twisted into an angry scowl. “I thought you and Seamus were seeing each other on the quiet--which was fine. I didn’t have a problem with it; I was a little put out that you didn’t tell me, but I guessed you would get around to it eventually.”
“Ron-”
“But then there was Malfoy,” Ron said with a shudder.
“What?” Harry felt positively sick now, and this time a Skiving Snackbox was anything but the reason.
“Your detention. I passed Snape in the corridor and asked him where you were. He told me. He seemed really pleased that Malfoy was supervising you.”
Harry could feel all the colour in his face steadily draining away. He didn’t need Ron to go on; it was obvious what had been seen.
“I wanted to make sure you were all right,” Ron continued. “I guess I needn’t have worried.”
“Ron, he-” Harry started to say, but he was cut off again.
“I didn’t think you could top that, but then you had to go and have an affair with Bill: I saw the way you two were looking each other throughout that talk; I know you went somewhere with him afterwards. Shit, Harry. What the hell are you playing at? Fleur is such a lovely person. How could you do that to her?”
“But-”
“Then it was Blaise and Malfoy!” Ron gave a bitter laugh. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt; I told myself that you’d got into a fight. But I’m not as stupid as I’d like to be.”
Harry could do nothing but rest his face in his hands in mortification. How could this have gone so badly? All he had wanted from the start was Ron.
“So who’s next on the list, Harry? Fred? Percy? Or have you already had them; was I the last one you needed for a full set of Weasleys?”
As Ron continued to rant and rave, Harry felt his dismay gradually give way to defiance. To his surprise, Harry was actually starting to feel angry with Ron. It was okay for Ron to have sex with Harry, knowing all this, and then give him the cold shoulder the next morning, but it wasn’t okay for Harry to have had sex with other people. Sure there had been a few, but he hadn’t led any of them on: every one of them knew that Harry wasn’t interested in anything more permanent. He glanced up to see Ron staring at him hatefully. Harry couldn’t take this any longer.
“How dare you stand there and judge me like this!” Ron gaped at him, completely shocked by his sudden outburst. “Yeah, so I’ve been with a few people. And you know what? I enjoyed it, Ron. All of it: George, Charlie, Seamus-”
“Malfoy,” Ron interjected sullenly.
“Oh yeah, because sucking off Malfoy is what I’ve always secretly yearned for,” Harry snapped back sarcastically. “He blackmailed me, Ron. I didn’t have a choice.”
Ron stopped pacing and frowned. “That bastard. I’ll-”
“Don’t bother,” Harry said, trying not to smile at Ron’s protective reaction: Harry didn’t want to risk him taking it the wrong way. “Malfoy got his comeuppance; I made sure of that.”
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Harry gave a dismissive wave of his hand; he could imagine Ron’s reaction if he knew the details of what happened with Blaise.
“Fine,” Ron said curtly. “What about Bill, then? Did you enjoy going behind Fleur’s back?”
“She knew about it. She…” Harry trailed off; he could see that Ron didn’t believe him. Harry sighed and rubbed at his temples. The whole conversation seemed to be going nowhere. “Oh, to hell with it,” he exclaimed, getting up from the bed. “Ron, she was there; she wanted to watch us.”
“She… you… bloody Nora!” Ron stuttered, his eyes wide with shock. “I don’t need to hear all this, Harry. I… It just hurts, okay? I hate it that I came so far down your list.”
Harry gaped at Ron. How could he ever think that? “You couldn’t be further from the truth,” Harry said softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m sorry; I went about this all wrong. I should’ve told you ages ago that I wanted you. Don’t hate me, Ron.”
Ron merely gave Harry a half-hearted shrug and said, “Look, this conversation is pointless. You got what you wanted from me; let’s just leave it at that.”
“But I didn’t get what I wanted. All I did was screw things up with my best friend.” Harry swallowed; he could tell that Ron was close to walking out and refusing to ever discuss it again. Potion or no potion, Harry was going to let Ron know just how much he meant to him. “Ron, last night, with you… It was special. More so than anything else I’ve done. I never saw it as just a one-night stand. Everyone else pales in comparison to you.”
Ron stared at him in silence, and Harry tentatively reached over to brush the back of Ron’s hand. When Ron didn’t move his arm away, Harry continued, “If you knew what I’d done, if you expected me to let you down afterwards, why did you do those things with me?”
“I don’t know; I didn’t want to. A moment of weakness, I suppose. This morning, I felt dirty because I’d let myself become just another conquest for you. I…I never wanted to be something so… insignificant.”
“Ron, you are anything but. You are the only one I wan-”
Harry’s words were lost against the press of Ron’s lips. Harry immediately pulled him close, wrapping his arms firmly around Ron, who stumbled on his feet, bringing them crashing down onto his bed. Harry moaned around Ron’s mouth, running his hands over Ron’s back, trying to pull him closer even though it just wasn’t possible - not clothed, anyway. He felt Ron begin to tentatively explore his body, and Harry shivered as Ron pulled his shirt free from his trousers, sliding a hand underneath, tracing fingernails across his skin. As their legs became entangled and the kiss more and more heated, Harry vowed that there would be no more secrets and no more potions, either.
Neither of them heard the soft knock at the door.
“Oh!”
At the sound of the new voice, their kiss broke and Harry looked up in surprise, slightly out of breath, glasses askew. It was Hermione. She glanced between them, frowning at Harry.
“You haven’t taken that potion again?” she asked, resting her hands on her hips. “Does Ro-”
“No I haven’t,” Harry said firmly, and she stared at him suspiciously. “Hermione, do you mind? We’re busy.”
Hermione pursed her lips. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said before shutting the door behind her with a click.
Harry turned back to Ron, leaning down for another kiss.
“What potion?” Ron asked just before their lips met. “What is she talking about, Harry?”
“It’s the reason I managed to mess up so spectacularly with you.” Harry reached up and fondly ran his fingers through Ron’s hair. “I want to tell you everything, Ron. Do you think you’re ready to hear all of it?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Well, it all started with a potion - the one I tested for Fred and George…”
Fin.