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Welcome Witches and Wizards of Hogwarts History, read the beautiful banner so skillfully stretched across the grand Great Hall. Ron read it for the fourth time, looked at his watch, and sighed silently. He had been waiting, wearing a wonderful waistcoat, for Harry and Hermione to show up for the past twenty minutes, but neither neared his nook. He wearily wondered what had happened to make them so staggeringly, laughably late.
"Hey, handsome. Haven't found yer friends yet?"
"Handsome, Hagrid?" Ron's racing heart calmed considerably when he saw who had suddenly spoken.
"Ye've gone and grown up on me, turned into a right fine fellow," Hagrid said, sitting down next to the reddened Ron. "How's time treated ye since ye graduated?"
"Pretty poorly, for the most part," Ron replied bitterly. "We war heroes haven't gotten all the amazing rapprochement rewards the Ministry mentioned to the placated public, if you could quite call me a hero. I had to scrounge scraps of food for many months before my first pitiful payment for service. I think they were allotting alphabetically down the "ho-hum hero" list; lucky me, my name is near the end."
"I'm certainly sorry, Ron," Hagrid said sorrowfully. "Them there Ministry men mostly haven't got a cryin' clue what it's like living on fame wi'out fortune."
Ron nodded, nearly not listening to Hagrid. He was wishing he had the courage to tell Hagrid he had missed him much these past few years full of youthful yearning. Harry and Hermione hardly thought that Ron had any significant sense left, after he'd told them he had a huge crush on the gentle giant. There was something about that burly build and the booming bass voice that had really rung in him during his dreadful seventh year; his frank friends thought he'd gone considerably cracked.
No worse than Herm and her secret Snape fellatio fetish, really, he thought huffily. Hagrid had much more going for him than some stinking, slimy Slytherin.
"So, Hagrid, how're the abhorrent animals?" he asked, abashed.
"Can't complain. Haven't had any particular problems wi' 'em, 'cept summat wi' that sub-species of Skrewts that the Headmaster had sent to the Forbidden Forest." Hagrid huffed. "They definitely didn't mean to burn the blasted stables, or to terrorize that third year."
Ron really doubted the scary Skrewts' iffy innocence, but he was not nutters and about to argue with Hagrid on it.
"I think that I need to step over outside or I'll nearly never get out of a tango with Trelawney. She says we would make 'an auspicious planetary pairing' or summat," the giant said suddenly. "I guess I'm goin' to the terrace."
"I think I'll walk with you, if it's all the same. This corner's too crowded," Ron said, standing.
They ambled across to the dark door leading onto the tastefully tiled terrace. Hagrid took one of the stone seats as Ron leaned on the low wall. No one else exited, and they were actually alone. Ron fumbled for something to say since they were comfortably concealed from the crowd.
If I don't say something now, I'll never know if he has any affection for me, Ron realized. "Hey, Hagrid?"
Ron reached out when Hagrid turned toward him. His hand tugged Hagrid closer to him, a fearsome feat for moving a man who only let himself be moved. Hagrid's bushy beard brushed his face. Ron rallied the last of his courage, kissed him hotly, and bounced back. The giant just sat, stunned.
"Whew! what a relief," Ron rambled on reflex. "Hell, here I thought that you'd yell and act affronted, but you're just sitting... silently..." Ron waved his wand in front of his friend's eyes, hoping he wasn't completely catatonic. "Hullo, Hagrid..."
Suddenly, Hagrid's huge hands were moving, wrapping round Ron's warm waist. "Rubeus, Ron. You can call me Rubeus."
Then the mountainous man was kissing him, and Ron finally felt free. This was what he had wanted for the past five years of his lonely life. Who he had wanted. And if Harry or Hermione had hang-ups about it, too tough for them. It was his decision, despite his haranguing friends' feelings.
While Ron reeled from frantic French-kissing, Hagrid handily undressed the unsuspecting, languid lad. With wild, manly movements, the two tumbled, tangled, to the terrace's terra cotta coloured tiles. Rapidly, Ron's and Rubeus's roars of release ricocheted round.
Ron rolled to face his fantasy. "Bloody brilliant."
Many minutes later, Minerva McGonagall meandered onto the tarnished terrace. Ron reclined on his large lover, who happily held him. Minerva marched back to the ballroom, seriously scarred and tremendously terrified. "Hagrid had best be prepared to pay for my considerable counseling."