Harry Potter/Ron Weasley - Blissfully Ignorant - One Shot - NC-17
Title: Blissfully Ignorant
Author: screaminglungs
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Written for the hprwfqf te prompt being...Post-war - 30. They're both married (het) and cheating with each other, and feeling bad about it but not doing such a hot job of stoppiting. Now what?” Ron’s POV
Summary: They say that ignorance is bliss and Ronald Weasley is certainly an ignorant man, even when it comes to his own feelings.
Warnings: As the challenge suggests there is het, and should I warn for male/male loving? No? Okay.
Notes: I’d like to thank my beta reader kcstories who is always there, even at 2am when I email over shoddy pieces such as this was before she looked at it.
Blissfully Ignorant
Ron stared at himself in the mirror and attempted to straighten his tie. He looked ridiculous in dress robes and he felt just as uncomfortable in them now as he had in fourth year, no matter how good the cut was now or how many times Hermione told him his arse looked delectable in them.
“Your arse really does look delectable in those trousers, Ron.”
Hermione stood in the bathroom doorway and smiled at him softly. She looked utterly resplendent in robes that shimmered gold and made her skin glow.
They had been married for three years and he still loved her, loved her as much as he did the very first day he’d realised it. He had looked over at her reading in the library in sixth year, ink smudged nose and all, and it had hit him like a tonne of bricks; she was gorgeous and he had been an idiot all those years.
“You’re just biased.” He grinned at her sheepishly through the mirror.
“Am not. Husband or not, Mister Weasley, I know a good arse when I see one and that is a good arse.”
Ron was blushing like a bloody girl.
“Well, thank you, but while you’re standing there, admiring my arse, do you think you could have a go at my tie? It’s not working for me.”
Hermione smiled and leaned up to peck him on the cheek before starting on the tie, chewing her lower lip while concentrating in that way he loved.
“Why do we have to go to this thing? Why can’t they just have a dinner party like normal people?”
“Ron, we’ve been through this. Mister Lovegood is paying for it all. They’ve been married for five years, and since when have either Harry or Luna been ‘normal people’?” Hermione tutted at him, as she struggled with one of the knots in the fabric, they had already had this discussion many times since the invitation had arrived.
“Exactly, Hermione, five years! He’s only 23. What was he playing at, marrying the first girl he saw after he offed You-Know-Who?”
“So are we Ron and we’ve been married for three! What’s the big deal? Luna’s nice enough, and they’re happy, aren’t they?” Hermione sighed; this was another subject they often discussed.
“Yeah, they are.” Ron almost sounded sad. “The thing is two of us were always going to end up together, weren’t we? It was destined. Harry and Luna, I just don’t understand,” Ron turned to look at himself in the mirror and smiled at his wife who was simply raising an eyebrow back.
“No, we weren’t! You could have carried on being a prat like you were the first five years I knew you, then we would never have ended up together, and be thankful it’s Luna that Harry’s married to. It could just as easily have been Ginny, couldn’t it?”
Ron shuddered at the thought. She was right. It could have been much worse.
“You’re right as always, love.” Ron grinned and pressed his lips to hers before she turned and walked out of the room. He watched the way her hips swayed in the tight robes and he swallowed hard.
He turned back to the mirror before what she had said dawned on him. “Hey, what do mean, I was being a prat?” he shouted after her.
*
Ron and Hermione were among the first to arrive at the party, which was being held in some lavish ballroom Luna’s father had acquired.
As Harry’s best friends, this much was expected of them, and Ron knew they’d be among the last to leave too. Ron, of course, headed straight for the bar, while Hermione went in search of their friend.
He watched her approach Harry from across the room. God, he was a gorgeous sight tonight. Dressed in new robes, tightly fitted new robes, he looked stunning, and Ron found himself salivating.
Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had been shagging for two years. It was something he should have been ashamed of, what with the super wife he had to come home to every night, but he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed of his and Harry’s ‘secret’.
They were both happily married - Well, Ron was. He still didn’t quite understand what Harry saw in Luna - and it wouldn’t pay to rock the boat, and besides, they were just shagging. That was it. There were no whispered terms of endearment or promises of never ending love. There was only passion and fire, and hard fucking in Ministry supply cupboards, so as to come before Kingsly or Tonks discovered them.
Maybe that only made the betrayal worse; because it wasn’t about love; only sex, but he couldn’t think like that and frankly, he didn’t think anybody who hadn’t had their cock sucked by Harry Potter could comment on the matter, because if they had, they wouldn’t want to give it up either.
Ron smiled gratefully at the barman who handed him a Lager and he meandered across the room towards his wife, and his lover.
“Evening, Ron, you look nice.” Harry smiled, and surely, everyone else could see that gleam in his eye? The one that told Ron exactly what Harry was thinking about, and suffice to say, it wasn’t Quidditch.
“Hey Harry! Good to see you, mate. What’s with all this malarkey? Couldn’t we have all had a few drinks down at the Broomsticks?” Ron teased and Harry shrugged and rolled his eyes in the direction of his wife, who was talking to her father and making very animated facial expressions. Ron grimaced. No, he really didn’t get what Harry saw in Luna.
“Would have done if it were only up to me Ron, but look on the bright side. We wouldn’t have seen Hermione look this gorgeous going to the Broomsticks now, would we?” Harry teased, making her blush. “I was just on my way to get some barrels to put behind the bar for later. They’re in a storage room downstairs. Wouldn’t give me a hand, would you?” Harry smiled softly; that smile Ron knew so well, too full of mischief for it to be innocent.
“Sure. You don’t mind, do you, Hermione? I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Hermione nodded and Ron pecked her cheek and handed her his untouched drink before following Harry out of the room.
Ron had barely stepped into the storage room when Harry grabbed at his lapels and shoved him against the wall. He moaned as he pressed himself to Ron’s front, from chest to groin.
“Your arse looks amazing in those trousers, Ron,” Harry breathed before sealing his mouth over Ron’s. Ron groaned as Harry shoved his tongue against his and he couldn’t help but grind his hips into Harry’s, before reluctantly pushing him away again.
“You know we can’t, mate. Hermione doesn’t miss a thing and if we come back all rumpled, she’ll want to know why.”
Harry rolled his eyes, and stepped away.
“Don’t be like that, Harry. I wouldn’t want her finding out like that.” Ron sighed. Recently, Harry had been getting more and more agitated whenever Ron mentioned Hermione at times like these.
“No Ron, you don’t want her finding out at all,” Harry growled.
“Of course I don’t! What’s the big deal?” Ron was honestly confused as to why Harry was turning this into such a big issue.
“Big deal, Ron? Maybe I’m sick of being your dirty little secret!” Harry snapped.
“My dirty little secret Harry? We’re both married. We’ve both been choosing to shag one another senseless these past two years. Why is it suddenly such a problem now?” Ron didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that this discussion was giving him a tight feeling in his chest and he didn’t think he liked where it was going.
“No, not suddenly, Ron. It’s been an issue for a long time. I’m in love with you, you dense moron!”
Ron stared at Harry like he’d grown two heads, and he felt like the world was imploding all around him. He couldn’t breathe. When had Harry gone and fallen in love with him? Did he love Harry back? He couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
“Say something, Ron, anything, just please, stop staring at me like that,” Harry pleaded. He sounded so unsure that Ron instantly snapped out of his daze and met the concerned green gaze of his best friend. His Harry.
“You can’t be in love with me. We’ve just been shagging,” Ron laughed nervously.
“You’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you, and well, throwing sex into the mix has just made me realise in what way and how much. I want you for myself; I don’t want to share you; I don’t want to be with Luna anymore; I want you; I want us to be together.”
Harry was babbling happily about what he wanted and Ron felt himself withdrawing. Maybe he was a little dense and most definitely a moron if he hadn’t seen this coming, but he really hadn’t. He had thought everything was plain sailing and he’d obviously missed all the signs.
“I’ll tell Luna tonight, if you’ll tell Hermione,” Harry finished.
Ron felt like he’d had a bucket of ice water thrown over his head. “What? Tell Hermione what, exactly?” he stammered incoherently and watched as a frustrated expression passed over Harry’s face. He was definitely being dense about all this.
“About you and me, that you’re leaving, that we’re going to be together, anything! I don’t know!” Harry snapped.
“I can’t do that; I can’t leave Hermione for…”
“For me? You can’t leave Hermione for me? That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? Don’t you love me, Ron? Is that what you’re saying?” Harry sounded devastated and resigned all at the same time, and Ron wanted nothing more than to make all this go back to the way it was.
“Of course I do. You’re my best mate, but Hermione’s my wife. I can’t just up and go, just like that!” Ron sounded somewhat hysterical. He wanted to say anything that would make this stop, but he just didn’t have the words.
“Of course not. Not for me,” Harry whispered to himself and Ron watched as he began tugging nervously on his shirtsleeves. “I can’t do this anymore, Ron, just shagging. It’s either me or Hermione. I don’t think I can keep kissing you, only to have to go on sending you home to someone else at the end of the day, even if she is my best friend. You have to decide.” Harry sighed sadly and picked up a barrel before leaving the room.
Ron exhaled heavily and sat on a nearby barrel to stop his legs from shaking. Harry was in love with him. Harry wanted him to leave Hermione. It was a little too much for him to take in.
It was a while before Ron returned to the party. He found his wife talking to his sister and he swallowed heavily, not ready to face anyone just yet. Not while he had all of these unanswered questions flying around his head.
“There you are, Ron! Harry’s been back ages. We all thought you’d gotten lost!” Hermione laughed, and when Ron did not join in, she frowned at him.
“What’s the matter? You and Harry haven’t been arguing, have you? Oh, not tonight, Ron! It’s his big night. You know he’s been dreading this all week!” Ron could barely comprehend Hermione’s scornful words and thankfully, the sound of a Sonorus aided voice filling the room prevented him from having to come up with an appropriate response.
“Thank you all for coming tonight to help our family celebrate the wedding anniversary of my magnificent daughter Luna and her husband Harry! Who’d have thought that one day my wonderful little girl would be married to such a brave young man? I’d like to ask you all to raise your glasses to Harry and Luna Potter. May we celebrate many more anniversaries with you both!”
Harry looked positively green as he stood up there next to Luna. Ron couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, especially after the conversation they’d just had. Harry looked like he might collapse at any moment, yet he kept that fake smile plastered onto his face.
Ron’s heart felt like it stopped beating when he met Harry’s gaze. He had never before seen Harry look so utterly miserable in his life. It almost physically hurt to see, and that tight feeling in Ron’s chest intensified, yet he could not bring himself to look away. He knew Harry had been deadly seriously about his ultimatum and Ron’s rejection had ended whatever there had been between them.
He felt his heart break a little.
*
“Ron, we haven’t had Harry over in ages. Why don’t you Firecall him and see what he and Luna are up to this evening?” Hermione suggested, as she lay sprawled across one of their plush sofas in the living room. It had been a lazy Saturday afternoon so far, but suddenly Ron felt anything but relaxed.
“I don’t think so, honey. I’m pretty sure he said he and Luna were busy this weekend,” Ron replied as nonchalantly as possible from behind the newspaper he was reading when really he was blushing. He and Harry had barely spoken since the party and he honestly had no idea what he and Luna were up to this weekend. A small part of him was willing to admit that he didn’t even want to know, that he was jealous, but he wouldn’t let that part of him be acknowledged.
“Well, I think I’ll Firecall them and see what they’re up to anyway. It would be nice to see them; haven’t so much as had an owl from Harry recently! I do hope you two have gotten over whatever it was you were fighting about at the party!” Hermione scolded Ron for what felt like the hundredth time since.
“Hermione, we didn’t argue. He’s just busy! You know Harry. He’s so singular minded when he’s got a lot on, and work’s been pretty tough going lately.” Ron was surprised at how easily the lies and excuses flowed from his mouth. It was almost amusing that it wasn’t until now, when they were over, that Ron had started lying to Hermione about him and Harry.
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll leave it, let him have a restful weekend.” Hermione sighed and went back to her book, which she soon became so engrossed in that she didn’t notice the way Ron sighed in relief.
*
It wasn’t until the following Wednesday that Hermione mentioned Harry again.
As it turned out, work really did get busy, and Monday and Tuesday had seen Ron staggering in from the Auror office long after Hermione had gone to bed. It had been particularly taxing, seeing as he had been paired with Harry who had resolutely refused to look at him, let alone speak to him, unless it was absolutely necessary. Therefore, when he walked in through the front door, he was totally unprepared for what Hermione was about to say.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Harry’s left Luna?” she screeched at him before he’d even had time to take off his outdoor cloak or put down his bag.
Ron stood dumbfounded in the hallway, unable to come up with a response for his irate wife. “What do you mean, Harry’s left Luna? He hasn’t said anything to me.” Literally, Ron added to himself after.
“I Firecalled her this afternoon to see if she and Harry wanted to have a spot of dinner and some drinks in Diagon Alley tonight; seeing as you’ve both been working so hard this week; and she told me that Harry and her had had a huge fight right after the party and that he’d left. The only reason she hadn’t told us was because she assumed Harry was staying with us!” Hermione sounded livid, which wasn’t a good thing, because Ron was equally dumbfounded and couldn’t find the right words to reply.
“Well, Harry always keeps this sort of important stuff to himself,” Ron replied feebly.
“Oh, stop making excuses for him, Ron! You must know what happened? You work with him everyday! You and he argued that night, no matter how many times you say you didn’t. I know you did. He must have told you something?”
“He didn’t tell me anything!” Ron suddenly snapped. He was sick of her asking so many damn questions and of her constant nagging on the subject. What was he, Harry’s keeper?
“And you haven’t been the same since then either. You’re always so damn snappy! Harry tells you everything, even when he’s being an evasive shit! I can’t help but think that this has something to do with the two of you. Why else hasn’t he been here?”
Ron felt himself getting panicked. He could almost see the cogs working in Hermione’s head, and it would be only a matter of time before she put two and two together and came to a conclusion that would ruin everything.
“I don’t know, Hermione! Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to listen to you always fucking nagging him about it!” Ron roared and finally, Hermione shut up and stared at him with those big brown eyes.
“Or maybe he wanted more than you could give him, and he got wise enough to get out?”
Ron’s breathing faltered and he stared back at her. Their eyes locked. He felt like he was suspended in stasis. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to run away, but couldn’t make his feet work.
“Oh, you were under the illusion that I didn’t know? Silly of you, Ron. Surely, you know by now that nothing gets past me. ‘Brightest witch of my age,’ isn’t that what Remus used to say?” Hermione sounded strangely carefree, but Ron knew better.
“Why didn’t you say something? Shout at me? Throw me out?” Ron had backed himself up so he was leaning against their front door. His legs wouldn’t stop shaking and he felt like his heart might beat out of his chest at any moment.
Hermione didn’t answer right away. Instead, she perched herself at the bottom of their stair case and looked up at him. It didn’t escape him that her hands were shaking.
“Don’t get me wrong. I was furious at first. I found out about a year ago. I’d come to your office to surprise you for lunch and there you were, kissing him. The door wasn’t even shut properly.” Hermione’s voice took on a bitter edge and Ron swallowed hard.
He remembered now. Hermione had been particularly quiet for a few days and no matter what he said or did, he hadn’t been able to get her to tell him why.
“Afterwards, I just came home and sat on our bed and tried to figure out why, what I’d done wrong…”
“Oh, Hermione, nothing…”
“Let me finish,” Hermione said sternly. “I tried to think of when things had changed between us and I couldn’t find a single thing. I sat there all afternoon, just going over everything in my head until I realised something. It’s always been you and Harry. Since long before we got together, even if it was just an innocent friendship at 11 years old, you belonged to one another and that was never going to change. There and then, I made a decision. I told myself that as long as you never changed, as long as you still came home to me every night and as long as you still loved me and told me so every day, then I’d let it go. I’d share you with Harry because in some way I always had done.”
Ron had never seen Hermione look so sad, and for the second time in as many weeks, he felt part of himself break. “I’m sorry, Hermione.” Ron’s voice broke.
“No, you’re not. I know you’re not. If this hadn’t happened, you would never have told me. If you’d had your way, you would have continued like this forever, coming home to me and having Harry whenever you could. Don’t you think he deserves better than that? Don’t I deserve better than that too, than to have to share my husband?” Hermione snapped. Now she did sound angry.
“Then why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Because I love you, you utter prat!” Hermione shouted, her eyes wide and glistening,
Ron didn’t think he could handle Hermione crying. “I love you too.”
“No, you don’t; not really; not like you love him,” Hermione whispered sadly.
“How can you say that? I do, Hermione! I love you! He asked me. He asked me at the party to leave you, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you and that’s why he and I haven’t spoken for weeks, that’s why I didn’t know he left Luna.” Ron sounded desperate. He needed her to understand.
“You couldn’t leave me, Ron, because you’re scared of losing what we have, not because you’re desperately in love with me. We’re safe and comfortable, and I’m your best friend, but you love Harry. You can tell from the way you look at one another, the way he was looking at you at the party before you two disappeared. It was like he wanted to devour you, and you looked the same. I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me that way.”
Hermione sounded so desperately sad, but Ron couldn’t believe she was yet again explaining to him how he felt about things. “I’ve never even told him I love him, not like I do with you,” he said.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, and even to his own ears, his excuses were starting to sound feeble.
“When do you tell any male that you love him? Your Dad or your brothers? Just because you’re having a sexual relationship with Harry doesn’t change the fact that you’re both inarticulate men who can’t vocalise how they feel.” Hermione actually laughed at that, and managed a weak smile at Ron.
“I don’t know what to say.” Ron sighed and sunk down to sit on the doormat.
“There is nothing to say.” Hermione sighed.
“I can’t lose you,” Ron whispered when the silence between them became oppressive.
“Ron, you already have. That’s just something you’re going to have to live with. I can’t be your wife anymore, but I’ll always be your friend.” Hermione’s voice cracked.
“How can you be so reasonable about this?”
“Believe me when I say that on the inside, I hate you very much right now and well, things will never be the same between us.”
Hermione was crying and Ron didn’t know what to say. He knew he couldn’t comfort her, not anymore. He didn’t like that feeling, but he knew she was right. He would just have to live with it.
“Hermione, I don’t know what to do,” Ron whispered, on the verge of tears himself.
“Do I have to talk you through everything, Ron? Go and find him, tell him you’ve been a prick and beg for forgiveness. Even I know that, and I’ve been in love with the same boy since I was thirteen.”
Hermione sobbed and Ron couldn’t help himself. He launched himself across the small space between them and wrapped her into a tight embrace, sobbing into her shoulder.
“I think that’s the problem, Hermione. I’ve been in love with the same boy since I was thirteen too. I just didn’t know it.” Ron held her tighter as she began to shake with the sobs wracking her body. In that moment he didn’t think he could hate himself more.
That night, Ron slept in the spare bedroom for the first time. They’d agreed that he could stay until the weekend. Then he would find somewhere else to live. Once they had both had calmed down a little, Hermione had run a bath and shut herself in her bedroom, while Ron had gone in search of food. He needed to think about his next move. He didn’t even know where Harry was or if Harry would even talk to him.
Of course, if Harry told him where to shove it, it would be all his own fault, but still, he felt he should at least try.
*
These past few weeks, when Ron hadn’t wanted to speak to Harry, there Harry had been, right in his face, rubbing in the silence that had hung between them, but now, when Ron desperately wanted to find him, he was nowhere to be seen.
The day after his and Hermione’s discussion, Harry had been sent out on assignment and Ron didn’t see him the entire day.
On Friday morning, despite the roster clearly stating that Harry was in the building, the man could not be found. He wasn’t in the Auror offices, or the canteen or pacing the hallways like he sometimes did when he was feeling stressed and claustrophobic from being stuffed in his tiny office.
It wasn’t until Ron remembered the place they sometimes met, a cupboard hidden somewhere on the second floor, that he knew where to find him.
Unsurprisingly, when he cracked open the door, there sat Harry, head on his knees and his arms wrapped around his calves.
“Harry?” Ron asked tentatively, watching as he flinched.
“Go away, Ron. Tell Kingsley that I’m not feeling well or whatever. Just leave me alone.” Harry sounded weary.
“No, Harry, we need to talk about us. You’ve left Luna. Why didn’t you tell me?” Ron closed the door behind him as he stepped into the small space. It was gloomy, lit only by a single candle, but Ron could still clearly make out Harry’s form sitting on the floor.
“I told you two and a half weeks ago, Ron! You knew what I was going to do. Just because you didn’t want to be with me didn’t mean things were right with Luna. You may be happily married, but I certainly wasn’t, hadn’t been for a long time, so please just go back to you wedded bliss and leave me alone.” Harry still refused to look up from his knees.
“Hermione knows. We’ve broken up,” Ron said plainly, and finally Harry looked up.
“When did this happen?” Harry still sounded sceptical.
“On Wednesday evening. She told me she’d known for a year.” Ron sighed.
“Poor Hermione.” Harry sighed and rested his head back on his knees.
“Yeah, anyway, so it seems that I’m in love with you,” Ron whispered, wishing Harry would just look at him.
“And how did you come to that conclusion? Did Hermione spell it out for you? If she hadn’t told you she knew, you would never have left her,” Harry snapped.
“Give me a fucking chance, Harry, alright! You’re right; I was happy with her and I was in love with her. I’m not going to lie about that; but I think I’d be even happier with you, and maybe it would have taken me a while to figure that out on my own, but I would have done eventually,” Ron answered back shortly.
“You want to do this? You want you and I to do this?” Harry sounded incredulous.
“Yes, I think I do. I am going to need time, but yes, I want you, Harry, I’m in love with you.” Ron sighed.
“I love you too,” Harry whispered and clambered to his feet until suddenly they were standing face to face.
“Hello.” Ron sighed and reached up to push Harry’s shaggy hair back from his face.
“I’ve missed you.” Harry nuzzled into Ron’s touch and gasped in happy surprise when Ron covered his mouth with his own. They stood there, kissing softly for several minutes until Ron pushed Harry back against some shelves at the back of the cupboard. As their groins aligned, Harry moaned into Ron’s mouth and pushed his hips against him. Ron sighed happily against Harry’s lips. How had he never realised how right this felt before? He nuzzled his way along Harry’s jaw and buried his face in his neck before suckling at Harry’s pulse point, making his hips buck when Ron found a particularly sensitive spot.
Ron soon had Harry panting desperately. The dark haired man pulled away and spun towards the shelves, dropping his trousers and boxers along the way. Ron groaned at the sight. He had missed it. How could he have given this up?
Harry stared at him over his shoulder with that begging look Ron was so familiar with. He could not get his own trousers around his hips fast enough before pressing two fingers into Harry’s mouth. Harry eagerly sucked on them until Ron couldn’t wait any longer. He prepared Harry with teasing fucking motions that made Harry rock back against his fingers and had Ron staring down in amazement at where their body’s met. He was so hard he thought he might come just from the sight.
Ron sucked on two of his own fingers and slathered his cock with the inadequate lubricant, before replacing his fingers with his cock.
Harry whined. It burned more than it should have, but Ron needed to be inside of Harry, needed to show him he was sorry and that he loved him, needed to let him know that this was the first time of many for them.
Harry groaned prettily and Ron inadvertently snapped his hips forward, making them both whimper. Ron leaned forward and wrapped an arm across Harry’s chest and one hand around Harry’s cock as he began to fuck him with short, hard thrusts. Every groan that fell from Harry’s lips was ambrosia to Ron’s ears, an addictive sound he didn’t think he would ever get enough of.
When Harry came, he did so with a shout and a shudder, clenching so tightly around Ron that Ron couldn’t help but give one last short, hard thrust into him before coming himself.
They stayed connected for several moments, until the pain in Ron’s lower back forced him to move. Harry turned around and they kissed softly and sighed happily when Ron wrapped his arms around Harry’s back and didn’t let go for a long time.
*
Harry had moved into the cottage at Godric’s Hollow after he had left Luna and although Ron didn’t move in with him right away, when he did, the two men managed to make a reasonably comfortable home for themselves.
Their wives finding out about their relationship was not the end of their troubles. The fall out from family and friends almost tore them apart on a few occasions, but they stood strongest when they were together; they always had done.
They didn’t see or hear from Hermione for almost a month after Ron had moved out. He wanted to give her time and space, and Harry was just plain scared of what she would say to him.
In the end, she came to them herself and told them it was time to be friends again, although Ron noticed she couldn’t quite look him in the eye anymore. That too, was something he would just have to live with.
In the end, Harry realised that although Ron knew him better than anyone, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t blissfully unaware of his own feelings, and every once in a while he would need a little help with them, and so that was where Harry came in.
The End
Feedback is adored!!
Author: screaminglungs
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Written for the hprwfqf te prompt being...Post-war - 30. They're both married (het) and cheating with each other, and feeling bad about it but not doing such a hot job of stoppiting. Now what?” Ron’s POV
Summary: They say that ignorance is bliss and Ronald Weasley is certainly an ignorant man, even when it comes to his own feelings.
Warnings: As the challenge suggests there is het, and should I warn for male/male loving? No? Okay.
Notes: I’d like to thank my beta reader kcstories who is always there, even at 2am when I email over shoddy pieces such as this was before she looked at it.
Blissfully Ignorant
Ron stared at himself in the mirror and attempted to straighten his tie. He looked ridiculous in dress robes and he felt just as uncomfortable in them now as he had in fourth year, no matter how good the cut was now or how many times Hermione told him his arse looked delectable in them.
“Your arse really does look delectable in those trousers, Ron.”
Hermione stood in the bathroom doorway and smiled at him softly. She looked utterly resplendent in robes that shimmered gold and made her skin glow.
They had been married for three years and he still loved her, loved her as much as he did the very first day he’d realised it. He had looked over at her reading in the library in sixth year, ink smudged nose and all, and it had hit him like a tonne of bricks; she was gorgeous and he had been an idiot all those years.
“You’re just biased.” He grinned at her sheepishly through the mirror.
“Am not. Husband or not, Mister Weasley, I know a good arse when I see one and that is a good arse.”
Ron was blushing like a bloody girl.
“Well, thank you, but while you’re standing there, admiring my arse, do you think you could have a go at my tie? It’s not working for me.”
Hermione smiled and leaned up to peck him on the cheek before starting on the tie, chewing her lower lip while concentrating in that way he loved.
“Why do we have to go to this thing? Why can’t they just have a dinner party like normal people?”
“Ron, we’ve been through this. Mister Lovegood is paying for it all. They’ve been married for five years, and since when have either Harry or Luna been ‘normal people’?” Hermione tutted at him, as she struggled with one of the knots in the fabric, they had already had this discussion many times since the invitation had arrived.
“Exactly, Hermione, five years! He’s only 23. What was he playing at, marrying the first girl he saw after he offed You-Know-Who?”
“So are we Ron and we’ve been married for three! What’s the big deal? Luna’s nice enough, and they’re happy, aren’t they?” Hermione sighed; this was another subject they often discussed.
“Yeah, they are.” Ron almost sounded sad. “The thing is two of us were always going to end up together, weren’t we? It was destined. Harry and Luna, I just don’t understand,” Ron turned to look at himself in the mirror and smiled at his wife who was simply raising an eyebrow back.
“No, we weren’t! You could have carried on being a prat like you were the first five years I knew you, then we would never have ended up together, and be thankful it’s Luna that Harry’s married to. It could just as easily have been Ginny, couldn’t it?”
Ron shuddered at the thought. She was right. It could have been much worse.
“You’re right as always, love.” Ron grinned and pressed his lips to hers before she turned and walked out of the room. He watched the way her hips swayed in the tight robes and he swallowed hard.
He turned back to the mirror before what she had said dawned on him. “Hey, what do mean, I was being a prat?” he shouted after her.
*
Ron and Hermione were among the first to arrive at the party, which was being held in some lavish ballroom Luna’s father had acquired.
As Harry’s best friends, this much was expected of them, and Ron knew they’d be among the last to leave too. Ron, of course, headed straight for the bar, while Hermione went in search of their friend.
He watched her approach Harry from across the room. God, he was a gorgeous sight tonight. Dressed in new robes, tightly fitted new robes, he looked stunning, and Ron found himself salivating.
Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had been shagging for two years. It was something he should have been ashamed of, what with the super wife he had to come home to every night, but he couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed of his and Harry’s ‘secret’.
They were both happily married - Well, Ron was. He still didn’t quite understand what Harry saw in Luna - and it wouldn’t pay to rock the boat, and besides, they were just shagging. That was it. There were no whispered terms of endearment or promises of never ending love. There was only passion and fire, and hard fucking in Ministry supply cupboards, so as to come before Kingsly or Tonks discovered them.
Maybe that only made the betrayal worse; because it wasn’t about love; only sex, but he couldn’t think like that and frankly, he didn’t think anybody who hadn’t had their cock sucked by Harry Potter could comment on the matter, because if they had, they wouldn’t want to give it up either.
Ron smiled gratefully at the barman who handed him a Lager and he meandered across the room towards his wife, and his lover.
“Evening, Ron, you look nice.” Harry smiled, and surely, everyone else could see that gleam in his eye? The one that told Ron exactly what Harry was thinking about, and suffice to say, it wasn’t Quidditch.
“Hey Harry! Good to see you, mate. What’s with all this malarkey? Couldn’t we have all had a few drinks down at the Broomsticks?” Ron teased and Harry shrugged and rolled his eyes in the direction of his wife, who was talking to her father and making very animated facial expressions. Ron grimaced. No, he really didn’t get what Harry saw in Luna.
“Would have done if it were only up to me Ron, but look on the bright side. We wouldn’t have seen Hermione look this gorgeous going to the Broomsticks now, would we?” Harry teased, making her blush. “I was just on my way to get some barrels to put behind the bar for later. They’re in a storage room downstairs. Wouldn’t give me a hand, would you?” Harry smiled softly; that smile Ron knew so well, too full of mischief for it to be innocent.
“Sure. You don’t mind, do you, Hermione? I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Hermione nodded and Ron pecked her cheek and handed her his untouched drink before following Harry out of the room.
Ron had barely stepped into the storage room when Harry grabbed at his lapels and shoved him against the wall. He moaned as he pressed himself to Ron’s front, from chest to groin.
“Your arse looks amazing in those trousers, Ron,” Harry breathed before sealing his mouth over Ron’s. Ron groaned as Harry shoved his tongue against his and he couldn’t help but grind his hips into Harry’s, before reluctantly pushing him away again.
“You know we can’t, mate. Hermione doesn’t miss a thing and if we come back all rumpled, she’ll want to know why.”
Harry rolled his eyes, and stepped away.
“Don’t be like that, Harry. I wouldn’t want her finding out like that.” Ron sighed. Recently, Harry had been getting more and more agitated whenever Ron mentioned Hermione at times like these.
“No Ron, you don’t want her finding out at all,” Harry growled.
“Of course I don’t! What’s the big deal?” Ron was honestly confused as to why Harry was turning this into such a big issue.
“Big deal, Ron? Maybe I’m sick of being your dirty little secret!” Harry snapped.
“My dirty little secret Harry? We’re both married. We’ve both been choosing to shag one another senseless these past two years. Why is it suddenly such a problem now?” Ron didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that this discussion was giving him a tight feeling in his chest and he didn’t think he liked where it was going.
“No, not suddenly, Ron. It’s been an issue for a long time. I’m in love with you, you dense moron!”
Ron stared at Harry like he’d grown two heads, and he felt like the world was imploding all around him. He couldn’t breathe. When had Harry gone and fallen in love with him? Did he love Harry back? He couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
“Say something, Ron, anything, just please, stop staring at me like that,” Harry pleaded. He sounded so unsure that Ron instantly snapped out of his daze and met the concerned green gaze of his best friend. His Harry.
“You can’t be in love with me. We’ve just been shagging,” Ron laughed nervously.
“You’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you, and well, throwing sex into the mix has just made me realise in what way and how much. I want you for myself; I don’t want to share you; I don’t want to be with Luna anymore; I want you; I want us to be together.”
Harry was babbling happily about what he wanted and Ron felt himself withdrawing. Maybe he was a little dense and most definitely a moron if he hadn’t seen this coming, but he really hadn’t. He had thought everything was plain sailing and he’d obviously missed all the signs.
“I’ll tell Luna tonight, if you’ll tell Hermione,” Harry finished.
Ron felt like he’d had a bucket of ice water thrown over his head. “What? Tell Hermione what, exactly?” he stammered incoherently and watched as a frustrated expression passed over Harry’s face. He was definitely being dense about all this.
“About you and me, that you’re leaving, that we’re going to be together, anything! I don’t know!” Harry snapped.
“I can’t do that; I can’t leave Hermione for…”
“For me? You can’t leave Hermione for me? That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? Don’t you love me, Ron? Is that what you’re saying?” Harry sounded devastated and resigned all at the same time, and Ron wanted nothing more than to make all this go back to the way it was.
“Of course I do. You’re my best mate, but Hermione’s my wife. I can’t just up and go, just like that!” Ron sounded somewhat hysterical. He wanted to say anything that would make this stop, but he just didn’t have the words.
“Of course not. Not for me,” Harry whispered to himself and Ron watched as he began tugging nervously on his shirtsleeves. “I can’t do this anymore, Ron, just shagging. It’s either me or Hermione. I don’t think I can keep kissing you, only to have to go on sending you home to someone else at the end of the day, even if she is my best friend. You have to decide.” Harry sighed sadly and picked up a barrel before leaving the room.
Ron exhaled heavily and sat on a nearby barrel to stop his legs from shaking. Harry was in love with him. Harry wanted him to leave Hermione. It was a little too much for him to take in.
It was a while before Ron returned to the party. He found his wife talking to his sister and he swallowed heavily, not ready to face anyone just yet. Not while he had all of these unanswered questions flying around his head.
“There you are, Ron! Harry’s been back ages. We all thought you’d gotten lost!” Hermione laughed, and when Ron did not join in, she frowned at him.
“What’s the matter? You and Harry haven’t been arguing, have you? Oh, not tonight, Ron! It’s his big night. You know he’s been dreading this all week!” Ron could barely comprehend Hermione’s scornful words and thankfully, the sound of a Sonorus aided voice filling the room prevented him from having to come up with an appropriate response.
“Thank you all for coming tonight to help our family celebrate the wedding anniversary of my magnificent daughter Luna and her husband Harry! Who’d have thought that one day my wonderful little girl would be married to such a brave young man? I’d like to ask you all to raise your glasses to Harry and Luna Potter. May we celebrate many more anniversaries with you both!”
Harry looked positively green as he stood up there next to Luna. Ron couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, especially after the conversation they’d just had. Harry looked like he might collapse at any moment, yet he kept that fake smile plastered onto his face.
Ron’s heart felt like it stopped beating when he met Harry’s gaze. He had never before seen Harry look so utterly miserable in his life. It almost physically hurt to see, and that tight feeling in Ron’s chest intensified, yet he could not bring himself to look away. He knew Harry had been deadly seriously about his ultimatum and Ron’s rejection had ended whatever there had been between them.
He felt his heart break a little.
*
“Ron, we haven’t had Harry over in ages. Why don’t you Firecall him and see what he and Luna are up to this evening?” Hermione suggested, as she lay sprawled across one of their plush sofas in the living room. It had been a lazy Saturday afternoon so far, but suddenly Ron felt anything but relaxed.
“I don’t think so, honey. I’m pretty sure he said he and Luna were busy this weekend,” Ron replied as nonchalantly as possible from behind the newspaper he was reading when really he was blushing. He and Harry had barely spoken since the party and he honestly had no idea what he and Luna were up to this weekend. A small part of him was willing to admit that he didn’t even want to know, that he was jealous, but he wouldn’t let that part of him be acknowledged.
“Well, I think I’ll Firecall them and see what they’re up to anyway. It would be nice to see them; haven’t so much as had an owl from Harry recently! I do hope you two have gotten over whatever it was you were fighting about at the party!” Hermione scolded Ron for what felt like the hundredth time since.
“Hermione, we didn’t argue. He’s just busy! You know Harry. He’s so singular minded when he’s got a lot on, and work’s been pretty tough going lately.” Ron was surprised at how easily the lies and excuses flowed from his mouth. It was almost amusing that it wasn’t until now, when they were over, that Ron had started lying to Hermione about him and Harry.
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll leave it, let him have a restful weekend.” Hermione sighed and went back to her book, which she soon became so engrossed in that she didn’t notice the way Ron sighed in relief.
*
It wasn’t until the following Wednesday that Hermione mentioned Harry again.
As it turned out, work really did get busy, and Monday and Tuesday had seen Ron staggering in from the Auror office long after Hermione had gone to bed. It had been particularly taxing, seeing as he had been paired with Harry who had resolutely refused to look at him, let alone speak to him, unless it was absolutely necessary. Therefore, when he walked in through the front door, he was totally unprepared for what Hermione was about to say.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Harry’s left Luna?” she screeched at him before he’d even had time to take off his outdoor cloak or put down his bag.
Ron stood dumbfounded in the hallway, unable to come up with a response for his irate wife. “What do you mean, Harry’s left Luna? He hasn’t said anything to me.” Literally, Ron added to himself after.
“I Firecalled her this afternoon to see if she and Harry wanted to have a spot of dinner and some drinks in Diagon Alley tonight; seeing as you’ve both been working so hard this week; and she told me that Harry and her had had a huge fight right after the party and that he’d left. The only reason she hadn’t told us was because she assumed Harry was staying with us!” Hermione sounded livid, which wasn’t a good thing, because Ron was equally dumbfounded and couldn’t find the right words to reply.
“Well, Harry always keeps this sort of important stuff to himself,” Ron replied feebly.
“Oh, stop making excuses for him, Ron! You must know what happened? You work with him everyday! You and he argued that night, no matter how many times you say you didn’t. I know you did. He must have told you something?”
“He didn’t tell me anything!” Ron suddenly snapped. He was sick of her asking so many damn questions and of her constant nagging on the subject. What was he, Harry’s keeper?
“And you haven’t been the same since then either. You’re always so damn snappy! Harry tells you everything, even when he’s being an evasive shit! I can’t help but think that this has something to do with the two of you. Why else hasn’t he been here?”
Ron felt himself getting panicked. He could almost see the cogs working in Hermione’s head, and it would be only a matter of time before she put two and two together and came to a conclusion that would ruin everything.
“I don’t know, Hermione! Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to listen to you always fucking nagging him about it!” Ron roared and finally, Hermione shut up and stared at him with those big brown eyes.
“Or maybe he wanted more than you could give him, and he got wise enough to get out?”
Ron’s breathing faltered and he stared back at her. Their eyes locked. He felt like he was suspended in stasis. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to run away, but couldn’t make his feet work.
“Oh, you were under the illusion that I didn’t know? Silly of you, Ron. Surely, you know by now that nothing gets past me. ‘Brightest witch of my age,’ isn’t that what Remus used to say?” Hermione sounded strangely carefree, but Ron knew better.
“Why didn’t you say something? Shout at me? Throw me out?” Ron had backed himself up so he was leaning against their front door. His legs wouldn’t stop shaking and he felt like his heart might beat out of his chest at any moment.
Hermione didn’t answer right away. Instead, she perched herself at the bottom of their stair case and looked up at him. It didn’t escape him that her hands were shaking.
“Don’t get me wrong. I was furious at first. I found out about a year ago. I’d come to your office to surprise you for lunch and there you were, kissing him. The door wasn’t even shut properly.” Hermione’s voice took on a bitter edge and Ron swallowed hard.
He remembered now. Hermione had been particularly quiet for a few days and no matter what he said or did, he hadn’t been able to get her to tell him why.
“Afterwards, I just came home and sat on our bed and tried to figure out why, what I’d done wrong…”
“Oh, Hermione, nothing…”
“Let me finish,” Hermione said sternly. “I tried to think of when things had changed between us and I couldn’t find a single thing. I sat there all afternoon, just going over everything in my head until I realised something. It’s always been you and Harry. Since long before we got together, even if it was just an innocent friendship at 11 years old, you belonged to one another and that was never going to change. There and then, I made a decision. I told myself that as long as you never changed, as long as you still came home to me every night and as long as you still loved me and told me so every day, then I’d let it go. I’d share you with Harry because in some way I always had done.”
Ron had never seen Hermione look so sad, and for the second time in as many weeks, he felt part of himself break. “I’m sorry, Hermione.” Ron’s voice broke.
“No, you’re not. I know you’re not. If this hadn’t happened, you would never have told me. If you’d had your way, you would have continued like this forever, coming home to me and having Harry whenever you could. Don’t you think he deserves better than that? Don’t I deserve better than that too, than to have to share my husband?” Hermione snapped. Now she did sound angry.
“Then why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Because I love you, you utter prat!” Hermione shouted, her eyes wide and glistening,
Ron didn’t think he could handle Hermione crying. “I love you too.”
“No, you don’t; not really; not like you love him,” Hermione whispered sadly.
“How can you say that? I do, Hermione! I love you! He asked me. He asked me at the party to leave you, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you and that’s why he and I haven’t spoken for weeks, that’s why I didn’t know he left Luna.” Ron sounded desperate. He needed her to understand.
“You couldn’t leave me, Ron, because you’re scared of losing what we have, not because you’re desperately in love with me. We’re safe and comfortable, and I’m your best friend, but you love Harry. You can tell from the way you look at one another, the way he was looking at you at the party before you two disappeared. It was like he wanted to devour you, and you looked the same. I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me that way.”
Hermione sounded so desperately sad, but Ron couldn’t believe she was yet again explaining to him how he felt about things. “I’ve never even told him I love him, not like I do with you,” he said.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, and even to his own ears, his excuses were starting to sound feeble.
“When do you tell any male that you love him? Your Dad or your brothers? Just because you’re having a sexual relationship with Harry doesn’t change the fact that you’re both inarticulate men who can’t vocalise how they feel.” Hermione actually laughed at that, and managed a weak smile at Ron.
“I don’t know what to say.” Ron sighed and sunk down to sit on the doormat.
“There is nothing to say.” Hermione sighed.
“I can’t lose you,” Ron whispered when the silence between them became oppressive.
“Ron, you already have. That’s just something you’re going to have to live with. I can’t be your wife anymore, but I’ll always be your friend.” Hermione’s voice cracked.
“How can you be so reasonable about this?”
“Believe me when I say that on the inside, I hate you very much right now and well, things will never be the same between us.”
Hermione was crying and Ron didn’t know what to say. He knew he couldn’t comfort her, not anymore. He didn’t like that feeling, but he knew she was right. He would just have to live with it.
“Hermione, I don’t know what to do,” Ron whispered, on the verge of tears himself.
“Do I have to talk you through everything, Ron? Go and find him, tell him you’ve been a prick and beg for forgiveness. Even I know that, and I’ve been in love with the same boy since I was thirteen.”
Hermione sobbed and Ron couldn’t help himself. He launched himself across the small space between them and wrapped her into a tight embrace, sobbing into her shoulder.
“I think that’s the problem, Hermione. I’ve been in love with the same boy since I was thirteen too. I just didn’t know it.” Ron held her tighter as she began to shake with the sobs wracking her body. In that moment he didn’t think he could hate himself more.
That night, Ron slept in the spare bedroom for the first time. They’d agreed that he could stay until the weekend. Then he would find somewhere else to live. Once they had both had calmed down a little, Hermione had run a bath and shut herself in her bedroom, while Ron had gone in search of food. He needed to think about his next move. He didn’t even know where Harry was or if Harry would even talk to him.
Of course, if Harry told him where to shove it, it would be all his own fault, but still, he felt he should at least try.
*
These past few weeks, when Ron hadn’t wanted to speak to Harry, there Harry had been, right in his face, rubbing in the silence that had hung between them, but now, when Ron desperately wanted to find him, he was nowhere to be seen.
The day after his and Hermione’s discussion, Harry had been sent out on assignment and Ron didn’t see him the entire day.
On Friday morning, despite the roster clearly stating that Harry was in the building, the man could not be found. He wasn’t in the Auror offices, or the canteen or pacing the hallways like he sometimes did when he was feeling stressed and claustrophobic from being stuffed in his tiny office.
It wasn’t until Ron remembered the place they sometimes met, a cupboard hidden somewhere on the second floor, that he knew where to find him.
Unsurprisingly, when he cracked open the door, there sat Harry, head on his knees and his arms wrapped around his calves.
“Harry?” Ron asked tentatively, watching as he flinched.
“Go away, Ron. Tell Kingsley that I’m not feeling well or whatever. Just leave me alone.” Harry sounded weary.
“No, Harry, we need to talk about us. You’ve left Luna. Why didn’t you tell me?” Ron closed the door behind him as he stepped into the small space. It was gloomy, lit only by a single candle, but Ron could still clearly make out Harry’s form sitting on the floor.
“I told you two and a half weeks ago, Ron! You knew what I was going to do. Just because you didn’t want to be with me didn’t mean things were right with Luna. You may be happily married, but I certainly wasn’t, hadn’t been for a long time, so please just go back to you wedded bliss and leave me alone.” Harry still refused to look up from his knees.
“Hermione knows. We’ve broken up,” Ron said plainly, and finally Harry looked up.
“When did this happen?” Harry still sounded sceptical.
“On Wednesday evening. She told me she’d known for a year.” Ron sighed.
“Poor Hermione.” Harry sighed and rested his head back on his knees.
“Yeah, anyway, so it seems that I’m in love with you,” Ron whispered, wishing Harry would just look at him.
“And how did you come to that conclusion? Did Hermione spell it out for you? If she hadn’t told you she knew, you would never have left her,” Harry snapped.
“Give me a fucking chance, Harry, alright! You’re right; I was happy with her and I was in love with her. I’m not going to lie about that; but I think I’d be even happier with you, and maybe it would have taken me a while to figure that out on my own, but I would have done eventually,” Ron answered back shortly.
“You want to do this? You want you and I to do this?” Harry sounded incredulous.
“Yes, I think I do. I am going to need time, but yes, I want you, Harry, I’m in love with you.” Ron sighed.
“I love you too,” Harry whispered and clambered to his feet until suddenly they were standing face to face.
“Hello.” Ron sighed and reached up to push Harry’s shaggy hair back from his face.
“I’ve missed you.” Harry nuzzled into Ron’s touch and gasped in happy surprise when Ron covered his mouth with his own. They stood there, kissing softly for several minutes until Ron pushed Harry back against some shelves at the back of the cupboard. As their groins aligned, Harry moaned into Ron’s mouth and pushed his hips against him. Ron sighed happily against Harry’s lips. How had he never realised how right this felt before? He nuzzled his way along Harry’s jaw and buried his face in his neck before suckling at Harry’s pulse point, making his hips buck when Ron found a particularly sensitive spot.
Ron soon had Harry panting desperately. The dark haired man pulled away and spun towards the shelves, dropping his trousers and boxers along the way. Ron groaned at the sight. He had missed it. How could he have given this up?
Harry stared at him over his shoulder with that begging look Ron was so familiar with. He could not get his own trousers around his hips fast enough before pressing two fingers into Harry’s mouth. Harry eagerly sucked on them until Ron couldn’t wait any longer. He prepared Harry with teasing fucking motions that made Harry rock back against his fingers and had Ron staring down in amazement at where their body’s met. He was so hard he thought he might come just from the sight.
Ron sucked on two of his own fingers and slathered his cock with the inadequate lubricant, before replacing his fingers with his cock.
Harry whined. It burned more than it should have, but Ron needed to be inside of Harry, needed to show him he was sorry and that he loved him, needed to let him know that this was the first time of many for them.
Harry groaned prettily and Ron inadvertently snapped his hips forward, making them both whimper. Ron leaned forward and wrapped an arm across Harry’s chest and one hand around Harry’s cock as he began to fuck him with short, hard thrusts. Every groan that fell from Harry’s lips was ambrosia to Ron’s ears, an addictive sound he didn’t think he would ever get enough of.
When Harry came, he did so with a shout and a shudder, clenching so tightly around Ron that Ron couldn’t help but give one last short, hard thrust into him before coming himself.
They stayed connected for several moments, until the pain in Ron’s lower back forced him to move. Harry turned around and they kissed softly and sighed happily when Ron wrapped his arms around Harry’s back and didn’t let go for a long time.
*
Harry had moved into the cottage at Godric’s Hollow after he had left Luna and although Ron didn’t move in with him right away, when he did, the two men managed to make a reasonably comfortable home for themselves.
Their wives finding out about their relationship was not the end of their troubles. The fall out from family and friends almost tore them apart on a few occasions, but they stood strongest when they were together; they always had done.
They didn’t see or hear from Hermione for almost a month after Ron had moved out. He wanted to give her time and space, and Harry was just plain scared of what she would say to him.
In the end, she came to them herself and told them it was time to be friends again, although Ron noticed she couldn’t quite look him in the eye anymore. That too, was something he would just have to live with.
In the end, Harry realised that although Ron knew him better than anyone, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t blissfully unaware of his own feelings, and every once in a while he would need a little help with them, and so that was where Harry came in.
The End
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