Title: Stealing Time (Just for One Day)
Author: Oncidium (hellsmouth@sympatico.ca)
Archive: whoever wants it, just let me know so I can visit.
Pairing: Harry/ Ron
Category: Angst, Romance, First Time
Rating: R
Warnings: This is not a happy fic! Here be character death and violence.
Summary: Ron looks back on what could have been 10 years after the final battle with Voldermort and the one day he had to live a lifetime.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me; they belong to the wonderfully talented JK Rowling. I just like to play with them and will try and return them in somewhat the condition in which they were found.
Feedback: Oh Yes!!!!!...Please

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Though nothing, will keep us together

We could steal time, just for one day

We can be Heroes, for ever and ever

What d'you say?

-David Bowie, Heroes

 

"…and could you please ask Ron again to come back? For pity’s sake, it’s been ten years already. This hiding has to end soon!" When I came home that day; it was the first thing I heard. The voice of my mother pleading once again with my wife to "bring me home". When I first left the wizarding community, my mother would send at least one charmed letter a month (that when opened my mothers voice would magically recite the contents of the letter to all those who cared to listen) with Pig. Annoying little git still knew exactly where to find me. Over time the letters grew less frequent and now I had to search memory to remember the last one. "Tell him this time that it would mean so much if you two could come back to the Burrow. Ginny is getting married and really wants her brother there."

Ten years… Had it really been ten years already? How little the world seemed to have changed in that time. Well maybe not the world, but I certainly hadn’t. Time became an eternity and an instant for me. Somehow it didn’t seem possible that ten years had already gone by. It also seemed like a lifetime ago that the bright light in my life, the one who housed my very soul, Harry Potter, was taken from me and left this horrible emptiness inside me that nothing has been able to fill.

"Ron? Is that you?" Hermione, my wife, called from our kitchen.

"Yeah," I said as I took off my jacket and put it away in the hall closet.

"I suppose you heard?" She ventured as she walked into our front hall to greet me. She had grown into a beautiful woman over the years with her thick golden brown hair and startling grey green eyes.

"Yeah, I did," I replied with non-commitment.

"Well?" she said impatiently, folding her arms in front of her chest in a way that made me think immediately of that bossy little girl I had met that first time on the train.

"No." I said, walking away quickly into the sitting room, sat down and opened a copy of the Times. I placed it directly in front of my face to signal that the conversation was now officially over.

This was to no avail. The paper was snatched out of my hands and I was now looking into Hermione’s face, red with barely contained fury.

"Ronald Arthur Weasley! How can you say that? It’s your sister’s wedding!" she said to me in a low and dangerous voice.

"Then she will just have to do it without me." I said. "And please don’t call me that again, it makes you sound like my mother. And that is not the most flattering thing to you." I stood up, pushed past her and made to leave the room.

"She’s right you know, you ARE hiding!" she yelled at my back causing my head to start to cringe toward my shoulders. There were a lot of things in my life I would tolerate being called and a coward was not among them. "Ron, I just want to know why? Is it because of Harry? We all miss him you know. We all loved…"

"How DARE you talk to me about Harry like that, " I yelled back. "You may have thought you knew him, ‘Mione, but you knew exactly shit about him!"

"YOU won’t tell me anything!" she yelled back, now furious. "You have been living in that shell so long, carrying around something you won’t let anyone in on. Ron, I still love you but I am so tired of living with you and whatever ghost you insist on letting haunt you!"

"Fine! If you want a divorce just say so." I said as the tears started to blur my vision. This was too much; all of these emotions were bringing out something I had spent the better part of ten years trying to kill.

"No, Ron," her voice was now soft, but defeated sounding. "I want you back. I want Ron Weasley. I want the funny, moody and hot-tempered boy who lived life to the fullest, rules be damned. I don’t want to watch you spend another day as the quiet and empty zombie you have become."

My temper left me and I went over and pulled her into a fierce embrace and kissed the top of her head. "I-I can’t go back, ‘Mione," my voice was now cracking with emotion.

"Please? Maybe it will help?" she looked up at me with large and pleading eyes.

"I don’t see how it can."

"Things could not possibly get any worse."

I finally relented and agreed to go back to the Burrow. Hermione sent word back to my parents, with Pig (who had been twittering and fussing I the kitchen all this time), to expect us the next day.

That night I when I went to bed I had a sickening knot in my stomach. I had not felt this anxious since the night before I first went to Hogwart’s. Then it had been about things like: Would I be any good at my classes? Would people notice my hand-me-down robes? Would I make any friends, other than my brothers?

My fears had been unfounded. The very next day (after looking into several compartments on the train and being told they were full), I found him. Sitting all alone in a compartment like he hadn’t anyone in the world. He had been so excited when I asked if I could join him and made me feel better about everything. I had found Harry Potter and he gave me the best gift of all. He became my best friend.

I guess I must have slept that night, although it didn’t seem like it. I was still apprehensive and filled with doubts the next day. Would the Burrow be the same as I remembered it? Would this be a good thing if it were?

As Hermione and I sat on the train that would take us to the town of Ottery St Catchpole, I looked out the window and thought about a lot of the things I tried to forget over the years. All of it had to do with Harry. I had no idea when it had been that my feelings first changed for him and became something more akin to love and sexual desire for him, as opposed to the love one feels for a very close friend. I guess like all things it evolves over time and seems to sneak up on you. I just remember that the day when Dumbledore called four of us into his office and told us that as the most important people in our champions’ lives, we would be their prizes to rescue in the second task of the Triwizard Championship in our fourth year. At first I had hoped I was there for Fleur, she was so devastatingly beautiful, but then I noticed her sister was there too. Then Dumbledore told me I would be Harry’s prize. Me? Ron "youngest bother and nothing special" Weasley was the most important thing in Harry "The Boy Who Lived" Potter’s life? I guess maybe it was that day that I knew he was the most important thing in my life too.

I had never considered myself either bi-sexual or gay. I loved women, everything about them. But I also loved Harry. I loved him more than any of the women I had fleeting romances with and when he "came out", so to speak, and started to date other men; every one of them killed me a little.

"We’re here," Hermione said as she shook my shoulder to break me out of my reverie. I gathered our bags together and we made our way to the outskirts of town. Soon we were walking along the long and familiar road to where I grew up.

On first sight of the Burrow it looked like nothing at all had changed. The many chimneys still puffed out long plumes of smoke and there was still an odd assortment of chickens and other farm animals in the yard. A peeling sign still hung on the fence near the gateway that read "The Burrow". I half expected to see a small explosion erupt from the twins’ room and to hear Percy hollering about how all the noise was disturbing his all important work for the Ministry of Magic. But is seemed quieter now somehow.

As soon as we had passed the gate, the front door was thrown open and the twins, Fred and George, had veritably flown out of it and had me tackled to the ground and were alternating in hugging and not so lightly clapping me on the back.

"Ickle Ronniekins!" Fred laughed. "It so kind of you to join us!"

"Yeah," said George between ferocious hugs. "We were beginning to wonder if we smelled or something and that’s what was keeping you away! But then we realized it was probably Percy!"

"I heard that!" I looked up and saw Percy standing just in front of us, trying to look stern but grinning broadly. He offered me his hand to help me up and I found myself in another hug.

My face had gone beetroot red from all of this unbridled enthusiasm. I then chanced a look at the door and my heart nearly broke. There was my mum standing in the door white as a sheet and trembling. Tears were falling in long rivulets down her cheeks and he hands were drawn up to her mouth in utter shock.

"Gerroff me, guys! Really!" I said half-heartedly to my brothers and finished my way up the path to stand in front on my mum. "Hullo, mum."

She let out a sob and pulled me into a hug so tight it was cutting off my breath. She was raining kisses down on any part of my face, which seemed exposed at the moment. My forehead, cheeks, nose… They were all assaulted with this display of motherly affection. "Please, mum, let go. I can’t breathe!" I managed to gasp out.

"I can’t." she said as she kissed the top of my head and pulled me in tighter.

"C’mon, woman, we didn’t wait for Ronnie to come home all this time so you could kill him before he ever even makes it over the threshold!" George laughed good-naturedly.

My mum pulled back ever so slightly and then did something entirely unexpected. She slapped me right across my face. I brought my hand up to my stinging cheek and looked at her dumfounded. "Don’t you ever do that to me again, Ronald Arthur Weasley! Staying away so long… If you knew how I worried… All the time…" She turned and walked into the house and I followed her, laughing, some things never change. George followed me and then Fred, Percy and Hermione came in after. Fred and Percy had brought in the forgotten luggage.

When I walked into the small kitchen I was transported back to my years at Hogwart’s. There we all were. Bill and Charlie were already sitting at the table with my father and, after they all got up to give Hermione and I enthusiastic greetings, mum set them to putting the tables out in the back yard to get ready for the dinner.

"Kitchen is now really too small for all of us!" she laughed. Over the years Bill, Charlie and Percy had all married and had children. I met my sisters in law, nieces and nephews (all of which had the Weasley freckles and red hair) for the first time and should have felt happy. But because everyone else was there, one absence screamed even louder to me. Harry should have been there. He should have been there to stand next to me and crack jokes on how Fred and George were beginning to bald and Bill was developing a paunch.

I followed my family out to the back garden and my mum started to set out the dinner she had prepared, when Ginny and her fiancé arrived. As I lived and breathed, my little sister was engaged to Colin Creevey. I could have almost laughed.

"Ron," she said as she hugged me and kissed my cheek. "I am so happy you and Hermione came. It’s almost like old times again."

"Really it is great," said Colin as he grabbed my hand and pumped it vigorously.

I budged up a bit on the bench to allow room for Ginny and Colin to squeeze between Percy and I at the over-crowded table. People laughed, ate and talked excitedly about the upcoming wedding. I never felt more alone in my life. I wished I could join them in their excitement but all I could think was… "Harry would have loved this, wouldn’t he?" Ginny said to me.

A sudden silence descended on the table and all eyes focussed on Ginny. She had obviously crossed into a topic of conversation that everyone had agreed ahead of time would not be addressed. "What?" she said crossly. "Just because Ron is here I can’t mention Harry? What I said wasn’t a lie. Harry would have loved this."

"Yes…" I whispered finally to break the deafening silence. "He would have. Please excuse me." I wiped my mouth on a napkin and quickly made my way back into the house. This had been a mistake after all.

I ran up the stairs to my old room, knowing full well that’s where mum would put Hermione and I for the duration of our stay. I started to throw clothing back into the bags when Hermione caught up with me.

"Ron, what are you doing?" she said.

"Isn’t it obvious? I can’t stay, ‘Mione. I really can’t," I said as I hurriedly shoved more clothing into the bags haphazardly.

"Ginny is already being read the riot act by your mum for bringing Harry up, Ron. I don’t think anyone would forgive her if you left now."

"You don’t know what it’s like to be here again for me! All these memories, everyone reminding me he’s gone. I just can’t deal with this!" I shouted as I turned away from the bed where I had laid out our bags, sat down heavily on the floor and pulled my knees up to my chest. I buried my face against my knees and at long last I started to sob uncontrollably. "You don’t know what it’s like."

"Tell me, Ron. Let me know some of what you are going through. You don’t have to do this alone. I am here and if you wanted so is your family. Please don’t shut us out anymore!" she pleaded with me and the damn broke.

"Fine!" I said standing up and staring to gesture to things around my room. "You really want to know what it’s like to be haunted, here you are. There, that aquarium on the windowsill. It reminds me of when Harry would help me with my experiments in trying to breed myself a new pet. I filled it with frogspawn and he helped me look after the tadpoles and then later the one viable frog."

I picked up a photo from my old nightstand, it was of Harry and I, and like all wizard photos we were smiling and waving. "This photo was taken by Colin right after the second challenge in the Triwizard Tournament! Even the ruddy posters on the walls! All of Quidditch, all fucking reminding me of Harry!" I was yelling now, but I didn’t care anymore.

Finally I came and stood next to my old bed, looking down at it and resting my knees against its edge. I whispered, "Even this ruddy bed reminds me… I made love to him in this very bed, you know."

Hermione gasped.

"No," I laughed sardonically, "I guess you didn’t."

I sat down next to her again, feeling defeated. I told her the whole story.

It was the last days in the war against Voldemort (even though we didn’t know it at the time) and things were looking their bleakest. Wizards and Witches all over were turning to the darkside, feeling that it was now gaining the upper hand and soon there would be nowhere left for people, who still fought on Dumbledore’s side, to hide. Voldemort was back up to full power and seemed unstoppable.

Harry was doing all he could to fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but spent most of his time on the run seeing as he was still their primary target. If he stayed anywhere too long people around him would end up dead.

I was working as an Auror with the Ministry of Magic and doing my part to help track down Death Eaters and bring them in. I barely got to see him those days. I had put my family in a safe house and told most of them to stay put until I came to get them. But of course, they all still left it frequently to help in the war. At least I knew they had a safe place to go at night. I had made Harry their Secret Keeper and knew he would never betray them.

I was flying on my new Firebolt 3 and scanning the countryside through the air, which hung thick with smoke from burning buildings and the crackling residue of every curse imaginable, for any signs of Death Eaters. It was hard work to discern new activity from old in this violent and traitorous time.

It had only taken a day for Hogsmeade to fall and after it went, panic ensued. So it was a really bad time to become an Auror.

Then, I heard it!

The screams of someone caught in the unmistakeable agony of the Cruciatus curse. I flew down to find out where it was coming from and what I saw chilled me. There was Harry, surrounded by three or four Death Eaters. He had been wounded and I could plainly see the blood running in a slick and slow moving stream from a puncture in his side.

"Crucio!" said one of the Death Eaters as she raised her wand. There was no mistake by her ugly pug face. It was Pansy Parkinson.

Harry let out another soul searing scream and threw his head back in a rictus of pain. Pansy and the other Death Eaters were so intent on his pain, they did not notice me land.

"Awwwww is poor ickle Harry feeling all sore now? Would you like me to make it stop?" she said crouching low to him and releasing him from the web of mind flaying energy.

Harry slumped back down, breathing heavily. "It’s simple, Potter, tell us where that annoying Auror, Weasley, and his family are and the pain stops. You get to die!"

"A curse can’t kill me, Pansy, you ug…" Harry gasped as Pansy shoved the end of her wand into his open wound and twisted.

"No, perhaps not. But you are just as human as anyone else and there are other ways of killing you. Boy Who Lived? Ha! Snape was right. Sometimes celebrity is not everything. You weak…" Pansy’s tirade was cut off when I came up behind her and yanked her wand-arm back, pulling the cruel wood from his wound.

"Pansy… Pansy… Pansy…" I said, trying to sound cool when on the inside I felt as if I had been the one she had just been torturing, "You know, he’s right. You really are an ugly piece of work, and now you are also sooo under arrest for using one of the three Forbidden Curses. Expelliarmus!" I caught wands easily that I had just relieved my opponents of.

Then I looked down at Harry.

Always small and skinny for his age, at 19 he was no different. His wild black hair was matted down with sweat. His skin, under the cloak of mud, was still as pale as fine ivory. His breathing was coming in short and harsh gasps and the slick red blood was mixing with the mud underneath him. I suddenly forgot why I was there and knelt down to pick him up. At that moment none of the rest of it mattered, not the Death Eaters, not the war, and not even Voldemort. The only thing that mattered was getting to a place where I could tend to Harry.

I carried him to my broom and managed, with great difficulty, to fly us away from the Death Eaters. I had him pulled close to me and leaned his head against my chest. His blood was soaking into my robes and making them stick to me.

"Please, don’t let him die," I whispered. I would have hated myself if he had died then without him knowing how much he meant to me.

Finally, I spotted The Burrow and much to my amazement, it looked relatively untouched. I landed as softly as possible on the lawn, hurried up to the front door and went inside.

It was dark and dusty. Cobwebs covered most of everything and the air had that musty smell a room gets when it has been closed up for a long time. Furniture and crockery had been smashed and scattered. The Death Eaters had been here, but luckily my family had not.

I laid Harry down carefully on the kitchen table and removed his robe and shirt. Luckily, the wound had not been deep enough to puncture any organs, but it was deep enough that he was losing a lot of blood. I took out a first aid kit and set about gently applying a healing slave to his side. He winced and groaned a couple of times as I ministered to the tender area. As bad as I felt for causing him any further discomfort, it would be so much worse if I let him die. Soon the bleeding had stopped and the wound began to heal. I wrapped a bandage around it to keep it from getting aggravated.

"Ron?" he whispered though parched lips. "Thank you."

"Really," I said in a halfhearted joking manner, "it was no bother. I was in the neighbourhood anyway."

Harry laughed a little and closed his eyes.

I went over to the sink and wet part of my robe under the faucet. I went back to the table and carefully began to wipe off his face, arms and chest as best I could. He felt so frail in my large hands that I could hardly believe that someone like him could cause such fear and loathing in the enemy. But I never fooled myself. Harry had powers most of us could only dream of.

Too soon, he roused from his semi sleep and sat up on the table. "Whoa, Harry, be careful now. You don’t want to cause yourself any further damage," I said as I helped to steady him.

"Ron, please don’t fuss. I am fine now. Well, I have been through worse anyway," he said, as he tested taking a full breath and winced again.

"Just don’t over do it. Okay?"

"Promise," he laughed a little. "Wow. The Burrow. I would have hardly recognized the old place. Seems like forever since we’ve been here, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah," I said, "But it looks like it was thoroughly searched, so I think we’re safe for now."

"Hey, Ron. Remember the first time I was ever in this kitchen? You and George and Fred had just finished rescuing me from the Dursleys in your dad’s flying car?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh yeah," I said enthusiastically, "and mum was giving them what for, well them and me… We had to go and..."

"De-gnome the garden as punishment!" he finished with a laugh. He started to get up from the table and I rushed over to help steady him.

"Harry, you really should take it easy! You lost a lot of blood." I admonished.

"Looked worse than it was, I think." Harry said. "Maybe I was just in shock a bit. Really, I feel fine, MOLLY!"

I laughed and let him have at it. There seemed to be so little joy in the world that who was I to take it away? "Do you remember when we had that dinner in your back yard right before the Quidditch World Cup? When Charlie and Bill were making the tables fly at each other and Percy nearly blew a gasket over the noise?"

"Yeah…" I said dreamily remembering the whole thing like it was yesterday.

"I-I can’t believe those times are over. Those were such good times. Really, the best I have ever had!" he said looking out the back window.

"What are you saying, Harry? It’s not over yet. We will win the war and then you’ll see. Good times will be here again."

"Perhaps," he said in a faraway misty voice, "I wish that for just one day everything could stop and we could go back to the way it was."

"Well, nothing is going to stop just now. But it will be over soon." I said with a shrug.

"Would it be incredibly selfish of us to maybe pretend that nothing’s wrong for just one day?" he said still in that misty tone.

"Well…"

"Ron, please? There may not even be a tomorrow, or if there is we may not live to see it. Just one day." Harry was pleading with me now and looking into those glittering green eyes, I could refuse him nothing.

"Just one day? Just like that? Pretend the war is not going on and just take the time for us?"

"Yeah…"

"Sure, I can do it, " I said. I didn’t know what overcame either of us at that moment, all I knew is that suddenly it did seem as if the world just went away.

"You think that the Death Eaters left any of the sweets you had hidden in your old room?" he said very excitedly.

"Oh, yeah! Everyone knows that Death Eaters don’t like sweets. That’s why they are evil," I nodded sagely.

We went up to my old room and pulled a shabby box from under the bed. We both sat down on the orange Chudley Cannons comforter and I unceremoniously dumped the whole contents of the box on the bed. We then started to eat the sweets with as much enthusiasm as we ever had. I laughed uproariously when he actually got the fabled bogey flavoured Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean and the two of us blew smoke rings at each other after eating a few Pepper Imps. We laughed. We talked and acted like nothing was outside that room. We even pretended the occasional explosions from outside were just Fred and George working on the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

After a while Harry’s expression became very serious and even apprehensive. "What is it?" I asked, hoping his wound was not bothering him or that he was dwelling on the outside world.

"Ron, there is something I have been meaning to ask you for a long time. You have every right to refuse and if you do then I will consider to issue closed and never mention it again," he said very seriously.

"What is it?" I said suddenly feeling rather apprehensive myself.

"H-have you ever thought about …well…us?" he said turning red and looking down at the comforter.

"You are my best friend in the whole world. Of course, I do," I answered.

He went even redder, "That’s not what I mean. I mean, about… oh damn. Ron I think about you, okay? I just want to know if before this day is over if I could have one kiss to remember you by. So if anything at all happens, then I will not feel like there was something left unsaid or unfinished."

You could have knocked me over with a feather at that very moment. There was Harry asking for a kiss. From me. "I don’t see what it could hurt. You can have it now if you like." I leaned across what was left of the sweets and pressed my lips softly but most definitely to his. It was like being his by a wonderful version, if there could be one, of the Cruciatus Curse. My whole body felt like a wonderfully warm electrical current surrounded it. I felt his lips part slightly under mine and I tentatively deepened the kiss for a moment or two before pulling back.

His eyes were wide and glittering. He brought his hand up to his mouth as if to finish rubbing the kiss in. I moved closer to him and whispered, "I really don’t think I did that right, Harry. Let me have another go?"

He nodded slightly and I leaned in again. This time I deepened the kiss immediately and let my tongue glide over his into his mouth. He responded then and twined his tongue slightly around mine. I raised my hands and placed them on either side of his jaw line, holding his head still as I plundered that wonderfully warm and sweet mouth for a while. I mapped out every ridge, tooth and cranny and noticed he was beginning to make slight whimpering sounds. I pulled back again but left my face barely inches from his. His pupils had dilated and his lips were swollen and red from the last kiss. I knew if I leaned in one last time, I would be lost and would not want to ever stop.

"You know, they say third time is a charm," my voice had gone husky with arousal and my trousers were getting uncomfortably tight. I pressed against him this time with my whole body and slowly lowered him to his back on my bed. I had never felt so complete in my life. If Voldemort’s entire army had shown up in my room at that moment, I would have died the happiest man on Earth.

Harry was responding uninhibitedly under me. He ran his hands up and down my back and started to grind our pelvises together slightly, making muffled grunts and moans, before he seemed to remember who I was and pulled back. "Ron! I am so sorry," he started.

I suddenly felt angry with him and remembered that in all the time we had known each other and all the men he had dated, he had never approached me before this.

"For what?" I said, sitting up suddenly. "Oh, I see now. Not good enough for you am I?"

"No, Ron, that’s not it."

"Isn’t it? I mean in all this time… Why is it now you ask me and why did you stop then?" I spat out at him.

"Ron, you thought that I never approached you because I didn’t find you attractive or that you were unworthy of me? Ha! Excuse me, but that’s laughable. Ron, it’s always been you. You were the one I would go to when I needed a friend. You were the first one to ever show me any kindness. You let me share your family, your warmth and your fears. You were the one who was deemed the most important thing in the world to me. I love you. It’s always been you. I just didn’t want to force anything on you, seeing as you never seemed interested in blokes before."

"I-I’m not, really," I said and when I saw the hurt in his eyes I added, "But Harry, you have always been unlike anyone else. I was not just another Weasley in hand-me-downs or the average kid who just blended in to a crowd. You had so many people who wanted to be around you and with you, I always felt rather privileged that you, in turn chose me. You are not forcing anything on me, Harry. At this moment I want nothing more than to hold you and make love to you and keep on pretending everything will be all right."

And for that one night it was. We laughed and discovered things about each other we had never known, like how his inner arms were extremely ticklish and I had no idea the back of my neck was such an erogenous zone. Soon our clothing was discarded off the side of the bed and we set about discovering the rest.

When I was on top of Harry and in him, I never felt more connected to anyone. He was trying to teach me everything I needed to know about making love to another man in one night. Before that I don’t think either of us had ever made love. Sure, there had been sex, but I could not believe that he told everyone he loved them as he reached orgasm. The last time that night, as I came inside him I whispered to him, "I love you, Harry, it will always be you. After this is over, promise me you’ll never leave me."

As I collapsed onto the bed, sated, and pulled him in against my chest I heard him murmur, "I promise you I will never make love with anyone again as long as I live."

For then it was enough.

The next day I woke up and Harry was still curled against me. I nudged him slightly and he muttered incoherently and burrowed back against my chest. "Harry, love. It’s time to get up. I don’t think we can affordably steal any more time."

"Whazzit?" he said as he sat up slightly and rubbed his eyes. He yawned and put his glasses on. I sat up and placed a kiss on his shoulder. "Ron, I will never ever forget this. You are the first person who ever truly loved me." He said as he leaned back against me.

"Yes, and I will still love you when we can finally be together again. But for now we have to go," I said as I dislodged myself from the comfort of the bed and started to reluctantly put my clothes back on.

"Ron?" he said from across the bed.

"Yeah?" I replied with my head now under it looking for a stray sock.

"Do you ever know, as an Auror, exactly what needs to be done but are afraid to do it?"

"All the time… Aha, there you are!" I said in triumph brandishing the missing sock.

"What if I told you I know what to do to defeat Voldemort but was afraid to do it?"

"Well that depends. What is it that needs to be done? Can I help? We can defeat him together!" I said sitting on the bed next to him and taking his hand in mine.

"No, only I can defeat him. I know what I have to do but I really have been very frightened," he said, looking me in the eye.

"Well, sometimes we do have to do things that frighten us. Think of all the lives that will be saved though, Harry." I wished I had never given him that piece of advice.

After a lingering farewell kiss and with a new determination we both set off. I never saw Harry alive again.

Later that day, I had the fortune or misfortune of finally managing to capture Draco Malfoy, who after the death of his father had taken his place as one of he chief Death Eaters. He seemed neither frightened nor displeased to see me.

"So, the famous Auror has finally caught me. How have you been, Weasel?" he drawled in his smug way.

"Better then you’re going to be, I reckon!" I hissed back.

"Really, well maybe not. Did you know your friend, Potter, this morning turned traitor?" he laughed.

"You’re lying!" I shouted.

"Oh, really? You’d think so. But why would I lie about anything a sweet as Harry finding me first thing this morning and giving up the secret hiding location of your family? We all know they are in the old tannery outside New Haverford. I think Voldemort himself was off to do them in." Draco said with increasing enthusiasm.

I couldn’t be. I felt like I had been punched. Harry had told his Secret. How could he betray me, especially after all that had happened? But then another thought struck me. He hadn't betrayed me at all. He was calling Voldemort out to face him, once and for all. In a panic I Apparated both Malfoy and myself to the safe house, but I was too late.

When I arrived at the safe house, still with Malfoy in tow, I could never have been less prepared for the grim tableau that greeted me. The tannery itself looked as if a massive hand had reached in and pulled it inside out. The air still hung with a thick grey smoke, which was slowly floating upward and obscured most of the light from the sun.

I could see the shadows of my family all standing at odd angles to each other and all facing in one direction. Fred and George clung to each other as if the other was a form of life support and I could hear my mum sobbing inconsolably. This was all background to the pale object lying face up on a heap of stone.

He looked so small just then, so pale, slight and fragile. He had not a mark on him and if I didn’t know better I would have sworn he had just chosen a very odd place for a nap. But his skin was so pale it almost seemed to glow. No more blood was running through those cheeks that just the night before I had kissed and caressed with such reverence.

I moved forward, past my family and away from Malfoy. I knelt down and took his small cold hand in mine. I then leaned down and kissed him so softly on the lips and pulled his body up against mine. He was so light, just a weighted feather in my arms. His body and head hung loosely. I felt the sick constriction of both my stomach and chest at the same time. My mouth opened but no sound came out. The tears would not come. I was so beyond grief and reason at that point.

"Ron, sweetheart," I heard my mum say from behind me.

"Somebody get me a warm cloak!" I shouted as I found my voice, "Harry’s cold… He’s so cold… Please Harry, wake up. This isn’t funny anymore." I was now shaking him and his head was lolling around sickeningly.

"Ronald! Stop it!" My mum shrieked and I felt her pull me away from him and into an embrace. "He’s gone, honey. Harry is gone now. He is in a better place with his parents now." She shushed and cooed to me for what felt like hours.

All I could think was, he knew and I didn’t stop him. He tried to tell me what he needed to do and I encouraged it. He new the only was to defeat Voldemort, after the ceremony where his blood was used to build his new body, was for him to die. Then I heard it. I heard Malfoy laugh.

I don’t remember making it over to him, but I do remember George and Fred pulling me off of him as I tried to choke the life out of him. The other Aurors turned up then and took Malfoy into custody. They took Harry’s body also.

Everything then passed so fast: the funeral, me getting the award for catching Malfoy and even the next ten years. Something died in me that day and I don’t think it’s ever coming back.

I finished my story and looked at Hermione. Tears were running unchecked down her cheeks and she then pulled me into an embrace and I cried. For the first time, I cried for Harry and mourned everything that was never to happen. Strangely, after it was all over. I felt better. Like a weight had been lifted from my chest.

I took Hermione’s face in my hands and kissed her and she did not flinch away. When I broke the kiss she said, "Ron, I never knew. But don’t think that for a second he was the only one who loved you. I do. I still do. If I have to share your heart with anyone, I am glad it’s Harry. But please let me share it with him."

Maybe everything would be all right now.

The next day I went to the cemetery for the first time and saw Harry’s tomb. "Here lies Harry Potter. Hero, Protector and Friend. Although survived by no family, he was loved."

"Yes, you were," I said as I leaned over and kissed the tomb. "Farewell, old friend, we will meet again someday. Maybe steal time again to be lovers and we’ve got forever to be heroes."

 

FIN

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