Knowing

"Don't act like you've suddenly got morals, Harry," Ron snapped, just like Harry knew he would. Ron was trapped now. Harry wondered if, as they had been standing out here in the rain and cold, Ron had sobered up at all.

"You've gone too far," Harry said, ignoring the rain dripping behind his glasses.

"How could I not?" Ron replied in a desperately angry voice, "You don't love her! Not the way you love me." He bit his bottom lip hard, and turned away from him.

"I did love her, Ron," Harry said, taking a couple steps forward, "And I love you, too."

"It's not fair," Ron replied, his voice now shaky and choked, "It's not fucking fair."

*

Harry never thought he would have any sort of issue with Ron gaining confidence. He had hoped for six years that Ron would be more confident. That he could get past his quidditch anxieties, his rattled nerves at any sort of criticism. His desire for praise and approval.

And yes, it was absolutely fantastic that Ron had finally come out to his family and started his sixth year out of the closet.

Ron was not the first openly gay student at Hogwarts, of course, but for some odd reason…as soon as Ron was out, he had gained what seemed like instant popularity.

Popularity in his social life…and in his love life.

If that's what you could call it.

And with this popularity, came a side of Ron that Harry had never seen or expected from his best friend. Cunning. Conniving. Something almost…manipulative. He could get anyone to do anything.

Anything.

"Harry?"

Harry snapped out of his daydream to look up from his textbook laying open on a table in the common room. "Huh?" he looked into Ron's striking blue eyes, "What?" he tried not to stare too long and get hypnotized. Again.

"Are you done?" Ron asked him, smirking, "What the bloody hell were you thinking about? You look angry." He asked this with a hint of sarcasm.

Harry set his quill down and stretched his arms over his head. Predictably, when he lowered his arms and tugged his black t-shirt back down, Ron was eyeing him. "Stop it," Harry said good-naturedly in a strained voice as he stretched again. Then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "And I'm not angry."

"Sorry," Ron replied, his eyes meeting Harry's once more, "I'm gay and you're hot. What'd you say?" He put an elbow on the table and rested the side of his head on his hand. The innocent look in his best friends widened eyes and lopsided smile was boring a hole in Harry's gut.

"I said I'm not angry," he repeated with a scoff.

Ron fiddled with his own quill in his other hand. "It's okay if you are," he said vaguely, examining his Charms assignment, "You're even hotter when you're angry."

"I don't think that's healthy," Harry chuckled, "But thank you. And no, I'm not done." He chuckled when Ron pouted at him.

"Be done," he pleaded, straightening, "I'm so bored I could puke."

"It's due tomorrow," Harry pointed out, "And you're even less done than I am."

"So I'll ask Mike to finish it for me at lunch," Ron said, waving his hand. Before Harry could protest, Ron was already grabbing both of their nearly finished assignments. "He'll do yours, too. Come on."

"'Come on' what?" Harry asked, grateful that he had suggested his current boy toy could finish their homework. Michael Corner was an instant E on the past two assignments he'd finished for Harry. But Harry would never outright ask Ron to do this unless he suggested it himself.

"Upstairs."

"Again?"

Ron rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry by the forearm, dragging him out of his seat. Harry chuckled. They began to cross the common room when Ginny appeared out of nowhere, stopping them.

"Where are you going?" she asked inquisitively. She really was spending too much time with Hermione.

"Just…off to bed," Harry replied, hoping his girlfriend wouldn't pry, "I'm kind of tired. Practice, you know." He could practically feel Ron hiding a smirk behind him as he still held onto Harry's arm. After pausing unnecessarily, Harry quickly said, "I'll meet you before breakfast." He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss before she could say anything else, and he and Ron headed for the boys staircase.

Harry's heart pounded heavily, even after Ron dropped his arm. Roughly halfway up the stairs, on the ninth step, Ron swiftly spun and grabbed him by both arms. He pulled Harry forward as he backed himself into the wall. Scoffing in amusement, Harry pulled out of Ron's grip and pinned him against the wall by his toned upper arms.

"Nice try," Harry whispered, smirking, and shaking his head. He brought his face close to Ron's, their noses almost touching.

"I didn't have to try too hard," Ron replied, taking a heavy breath.

"Hm."

They remained this way, faces hovering close together. Ron's lips parted, and Harry could feel him fighting the urge to tilt his head to the side. Feeling bolder than earlier that morning, Harry moved his face closer. Their waists were touching and their noses brushed. Ron exhaled shakily.

Go ahead, Harry taunted in his mind. Only a moment later he noticed something and raised an eyebrow.

"When did you start drinking?" he asked, recognizing the scent of cinnamon wafting off his best friend.

"Kiss me and I'll tell you," Ron murmured, eyes twinkling.

"Kiss me," Harry retorted. "And tell me anyway." He felt Ron's fingers begin to trail up and down his sides.

"Piss off." He grabbed Harry's waist and squeezed gently.

"You first," Harry whispered, daringly putting a hand on the side of Ron's neck, his thumb under his chin.

Ron shivered, and bit his lip. He was struggling. For one invigorating second, Harry thought Ron would actually kiss him. The sizzle of electricity was there, daring them both to just cross the line. But neither of them wanted to. Not yet. Neither of them was ready to cave, to admit that their attraction was beyond sarcastic flirting and friendship.

It was there, almost every morning, but always every night. Ever since the night Harry had had to help Ron up to their dorm when he was a bit too inebriated. Halfway up the stairs Ron had grabbed Harry by the waist, back up against the wall, whispering "kiss me."

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

"You're my best friend."

"Yeah. So I know your body better than anyone."

Now it was a sensual, spark-driven game of chicken. Always on the stairs, always the ninth step, they would stop. One would grab the other, they would get as close as they dared without their lips actually touching. Neither of them would say it, but they both had the same idea.

If we're not actually kissing, then we're doing nothing wrong.

There were rules involved, of course.

If either one of them passed the ninth step, you weren't allowed to grab them and pull them back.

Hearing someone coming was fair game. Either you would risk being caught in this position, or you parted to save yourself.

'Stop' meant stop immediately, no hesitation. Ask questions later.

Using your hands was acceptable.

You could say whatever the hell you wanted.

It could only be played on this particular step. The ninth step from the common room doorway.

And never…never tell Ginny. Obviously.

Every single one of these rules was unspoken but completely understood.

So at that moment, Harry felt the need to stay put. Was Ron actually going to give in? He never knew. They both never knew. This was the 30^th time they had played this game. Every time was an adrenaline rush, which Harry assumed was a big reason why they played in the first place.

"Were you drunk at practice?" Harry asked quietly. He knew the answer, but he also knew Ron got easily flustered when questioned in this position. So whenever Ron started to get a bit sassy, Harry could knock him down a peg with interrogation.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Ron breathed, still not meeting Harry's eye.

"Stop being naughty," Harry retorted with a chuckle.

Predictably, Ron let out an annoyed huff. "That's not fair."

"Oh, is naughty on your list of words that turn you on?" Harry asked innocently. "Kiss me and I'll shut up."

Ron smirked and he finally met Harry's gaze again, his eyes flashing mischievously. Always a warning sign that he was about to say something diabolical. Ron moved his hands to Harry's waist band, curling the tips of his fingers underneath it, and pulled Harry's hips forward, so that their waists were touching.

"Kiss me and I'll show you what else I can do with me mouth," Ron whispered hotly against Harry's lips.

Harry froze. For three solid seconds he did not have one singular innocent thought. The only thing he wanted to do was grab his best friend by the throat and pull their lips together, kiss him, and then shove him down. He imagined Ron on his knees looking up at him.

Then he exhaled.

Ron smirked. Harry looked down, closing his eyes, then let go of Ron's arms, backing away.

"Fuck," he swore sharply, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses.

Ron chuckled gleefully. "I've been waiting for you to set me up for that one," he chirped.

"Well played," Harry muttered, pulling his robes around himself to cover the front of his pants, "Fucking hell." Ron was already on his way up again, and Harry quickly moved up one step before grabbing Ron's hand. "Hey," he said in his normal, platonic voice, "Seriously, Ron, have you been drunk since practice?"

Ron paused. "No," he said, smiling, "I was just messing with you. I had a quick drink in the library with Mike before I got back." Then his smile wavered. Harry saw something odd shift in his eyes. He looked concerned. "Are you…are you mad at me about it or something?"

"No," Harry replied, "I…I don't think so. I just think it's odd. It's like you're drinking to get drunk or something."

"Well…that's the point, isn't it?" Ron asked with a frown. "Why else would I be drinking?" He looked so flabbergasted that Harry had to pause before speaking.

"I…I don't know."

But Harry did find it odd. Growing up in Britain, it was common for children to have a glass of wine or two with their parents present at dinnertimes. Harry had seen Dudley and his friends do this frequently. But drinking alcohol like this wasn't exactly to get drunk, alcohol was used to compliment the food. A nightcap between adults was something different, and they may find themselves drunk, but they were older and more experienced in these things.

Of course Harry knew there was reckless behavior and drinking alcohol to certain levels was enjoyable, but he'd never imagined Ron doing it. Fred and George weren't even heavy drinkers. But ever since Ron had been floating from one bloke to the next, and nearly always finding his way back to Michael Corner, it seemed that drinking and staying out past curfew had become a regular thing. Harry also knew it was common practice for Ron's…toys…to sneak him into their dorms.

Most situations Ron found himself in involved drinking.

"As long as you're happy," Harry finally said with a shrug.

"I'm happy."

Much later that night, Harry awoke quite suddenly. He groaned as he fumbled for his glasses to check the time. Just as he thought, it was 2 AM. He took off his glasses and set them on his nightstand, then moved to the left side of his bed, turning onto his side, and fell back asleep.

When his watch chimed seven times later than morning, Harry let out another tired groan, pushing his face into his pillow. Next to him, Ron turned over onto his back with a similar irritated grumble.

That was another thing. Ever since that summer, it had become a normal, routine scenario that Ron crawl into bed with him. Never anything sexual. They hardly even touched each other, if ever. Ron even brought his pillow and blanket with them. They were just…there. Not together. Just not alone. Not every night, but frequently.

Ron never explained why. Harry imagined it had to be due to nightmares or insomnia. But it comforted both of them, so they let it be, no matter the reason.

"Come on," Harry muttered, turning to face him but not opening his eyes, "I can't be late to meet Ginny again."

"What's that got to do with me?" Ron replied grumpily, pulling the blanket over his head.

"I guess it doesn't," Harry said, sitting up, "But come on. Come with me." When he put his glasses on he looked down at Ron, who had lowered the blanket and was smiling in amusement. "What?"

"Nothing," Ron replied with a chuckle.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on," he said again, "Meet up with one of your boyfriends for breakfast or something."

"No," Ron replied, nearly whining, "It's warm here." He flopped onto his side again, peering up at Harry with one unobscured eye. "Stay." He blinked innocently.

Harry reached out and brushed Ron's hair away from his face. "Don't bat those eyelashes at me," he chuckled, "I'm not one of your toys."

"I know." Ron groaned, sitting up. "It's actually annoying."

"Why? Because you can't play me?" Harry shook his head with a smile.

Ron raise an eyebrow and cocked his head. "Maybe I don't get to play you," he said with a small smile, "But I get to play with you."

"Stop," Harry snorted, then picked up Ron's pillow and whacked him in the face with it. "Come on. Come with me."

"Just because you don't want to be alone with my sister..."

"Hey," Harry quipped, crawling out of bed, "That's not why."

"If you don't like her, just break up with her," Ron replied, a bit too stiffly for Harry's liking. "It's Ginny. She'll be fine."

"I do like her!" Harry argued as they walked into the washroom.

"No, you don't," Ron said with a snort. He began stripping off his clothes, then twisted the hot water nozzle on one of the showers. "Harry, you have more chemistry with Hermione than you do with Ginny." He stepped into the shower.

Standing at the sink with his toothbrush in hand, Harry sighed. He wanted very badly to like Ginny. Truthfully, he did. But he couldn't bring himself to break up with her. He knew it would hurt her, no matter how fine she may be down the line. Secretly, Harry was hoping she would just dump him.

As Harry brushed his teeth he stared into the mirror, watching Ron through the gap in his shower curtain before the mirror began to fog up. A minute or so later, Ron stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his hips. Harry looked at him for a moment, then his jaw clenched unwillingly.

"What?" Ron asked, sensing Harry's sudden change in mood.

"Who did that?" Harry replied, nodding toward his waist.

Ron looked down and froze. On the left side of his waist was a candy cane shaped bruise, one that came from hands grasping his waist from behind. Ron turned red and pulled his towel up to cover it. He let out a short sigh. "No one."

"Corner?" Harry asked curiously. He pulled off his pants and stepped into the shower Ron had left running for him.

"No…" Ron replied slowly. Quietly.

"Who?" Harry inquired, now deeply curious. Ron had never withheld a name from him.

"Harry…" Ron said slowly, "Not right now."

"Why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because…" now Ron looked deeply uncomfortable, and couldn't look him in the eye. "I…"

"Okay," Harry said softly, "I'm sorry." Truthfully, he was annoyed, but Ron had a right to decide what to tell him and what not to tell him. Harry had to respect that even if he hated it.

After they were washed up and dressed, they headed down the stairs. When they hit the ninth step, it was Harry who grabbed Ron first. Ron gasped, clearly somehow caught off guard. As Harry held onto Ron's wrists, he whispered,

"Tell me."

"Harry…" Ron murmured, pushing himself against the wall even harder, like he wanted to go through it. He glanced up the stairs, toward the younger students dorms, then down them toward the common room.

"Why don't you want me to know?" Harry taunted.

"Because," Ron replied quietly, looking tense again, "It will probably bother you."

"Why is that a problem?" Harry whispered, "Didn't you say I'm hot when I'm angry?"

"Maybe," Ron whispered back. After a breath, he let himself smile.

Harry shook his head, amused. He then lifted Ron's arms above his head, pinning them to the wall by his wrists. He gently pressed himself against Ron's body, their eyes locked. "So, who was it?" Harry tried to recall seeing this bruise earlier than yesterday, but couldn't pull up any memory of it.

"Fine. I'll tell you," Ron replied lightly. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, and his breathing wasn't exactly steady. He was flustered.

"Yeah?" Harry whispered, his heart skipping a beat.

"Yeah," Ron whispered back, "But you have to kiss me first."

"That's low," Harry said with a smirk, he gently let go of Ron's wrists and let him lower his arms, "I know you want to cave."

"So do you," Ron retorted with a scoff, rubbing his left wrist.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, suddenly concerned.

"Yeah," Ron replied, his brow furrowed, "Why?" He was still rubbing his wrist.

"Your wrist," Harry answered. He took one step down, and Ron followed. "I didn't mean to grab you so hard, I'm sorry."

"Oh," Ron said, smiling, "It's fine. I promise you I don't mind it. At all."

Harry shook his head, and they began walking down the stairs. "You and your…pain thing."

His best friend scoffed. "Pain that comes with pleasure is a different kind of pain."

"Ron," Harry said carefully, "Can-"

"Please," Ron interrupted painstakingly, "Harry…"

"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly, "I'll stop."

"I'll tell you at a better time, okay?"

"Okay," Harry agreed.

Still a bit tense, Ron walked into the common room, bypassing his sister without a single word.

Several minutes later, Harry and Ginny were entering the Great Hall. Harry overheard a familiar, lightly Scottish accent, and glanced toward the cluster of Ravenclaws standing by the doorway. Michael Corner, Ron's true kryptonite, had his arm over Ron's shoulders. He was talking to his other two friends, Anthony and Terry, and looked so comfortable holding onto Ron like this that it was almost like they were already dating.

Michael Corner had never done something so casually possessive with Ron like this. Around the castle if they were seen together they were usually being quite flirtatious, but in a deeply ironic sort of way.

But there were rumors about them that neither of them seemed to confirm or deny. Ron had been seen plastered at the Ravenclaws hip very quickly after Michael dumped Cho Chang out of nowhere, that the speculation was Ron had broken them up. Ron hadn't done much to disprove this.

"Did you?"

"Did I break them up? Like me, personally?"

"Yes."

"No, Harry. I did not deliberately break up Michael Corner and Cho Chang. Why would I?"

"I don't know. To get Corner."

"Mike and I aren't even dating."

"So why are you around him all the time now?"

"Because he is single and openly bisexual, I did not deliberately break them up."

"You think they're together now?" Ginny mused as they watched Ron jump into the conversation. Whatever he was saying must have been very quiet because Terry and Anthony stepped closer to him, now blocking Ron from view.

Harry and Ginny remained where they were, waiting for Hermione. They were both furtively watching Ron. After a minute or so, Terry and Anthony backed away laughing and headed for the Great Hall. Michael whispered something to Ron, then kissed him on the head and took off as well. Ron watched him, but did not follow. He glanced around the room, not noticing Harry and Ginny, and then began strolling off to the right.

Ron was headed toward a cluster of Hufflepuffs. In the group was Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan, the only other openly gay couple at Hogwarts aside from Dean and Seamus. When Justin noticed Ron, he smiled. Harry saw Ernie first looked at Ron with a bit of skepticism but then smiled politely.

"What's going on there?" Harry questioned under his breath.

"I don't know," Ginny whispered back.

Even from where Harry was standing, he saw the exact moment Ron's chipper friendliness switched over to his way of underhanded-style flirting. From what Harry had seen, he could be very subtle. Some people picked up on it quickly, while others simply let Ron play them like a fiddle. A little lopsided grin here, an enamored gaze there, and most guys just melted.

Harry could understand that.

"What, is he gonna break them up too?" Ginny suddenly asked with a sharp scoff.

He could. Harry didn't doubt that. He watched as Ron shifted his weight, but take a very slight step to the left. Naturally, Justin followed. And as Ron continued to talk, Harry watched him pull a slightly masterful move. As a few students passed behind him, Ron took a half a step backward. No one would notice unless they were watching his feet. This caused a second-year Gryffindor to bump into him. And as Ron "steadied" himself, he took a few more steps to the left.

Again, Justin followed and was now completely turned away from Ernie.

Harry couldn't help feeling impressed but also confused. Why did Ron suddenly want Justin's attention?

"What are you looking at?"

The sound of Hermione's voice made Harry jump. As he caught his breath, Ginny replied, "My tramp of a brother."

Hermione followed her Ginny's nod over to Ron, who was now shamelessly throwing his signature puppy dog eyed, innocent but somehow sensual, smile at Justin.

Justin, who was not hiding his smitten smirk at all. He said something to Ron, who shrugged, then turned and walked away. When he was far enough away, they watched Ernie grab Justin's arm and say something angrily, his eyes narrowed. Immediately, they both began arguing with each other.

"You think he did that on purpose?" Hermione asked after they began walking toward the Great Hall.

"He has been causing drama lately," Ginny replied, "I was in the girls room yesterday and Cho was crying again. She really, really hates Ron. She kept saying he knew what he was doing and he just kept edging her out until Mike finally broke up with her. She said Ron was all he could talk about for days, but then when they broke up he didn't talk about him at all. And she said Ron's been making comments to her about Mike."

That's bullshit.

Harry had never seen or heard Ron say or do anything to Cho Chang.

When they entered the Great Hall, they saw Ron hovering near the Ravenclaw table. But he was nowhere near Michael. Instead, he was standing with Roger Davies, captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team.

"How many guys does my brother need?" Ginny asked, yet she sounded more startled than irritated. "Harry…is there something going on with him?"

Harry was too occupied watching Ron with Roger Davies that he didn't hear his girlfriend. Harry wondered if this was the guy that had possessively marked Ron. Roger was certainly looking at Ron with that signature Ravenclaw smugness. The look in his eyes blatantly saying "I've seen you naked."

Yet…Ron looked a bit…upset. Maybe confused. Whatever Roger was saying to him didn't seem like it was sitting right. Ron shook his head, brow furrowed and forehead creased, and slowly turned to walk away. Quickly, Roger reached out and grabbed the fleshy part of his upper arm. He pulled Ron back and said something in his ear.

Harry bristled. Roger's grip was a little too tight, his face a bit too furious. Ron's entire body went tense and tight. His arm bent at the elbow, as if ready to wrench himself away at any given moment.

Ginny and Hermione said nothing, but they appeared uncomfortable.

Roger's grip tightened and he said one more thing before letting Ron go.  

Momentarily, Ron looked frozen, but then he continued on his way. He walked down the table to where Michael Corner sat. He looked at Ron with a smile, then saw the upset look on his face, and his head snapped in the direction of Roger.

"What is going on?" Ginny said in amazement.

"Dunno," Harry said vaguely. There was a boiling hot ball of rage in his gut. That was his Ron. No one touched his Ron like that.

He felt feral at the way Roger had grabbed him. But also…he still felt jealous.

Jealousy…that startled him. It had only just started recently. Which was odd. He'd seen Ron with plenty of guys (well, plenty of the same guys, rotated), and it had never bothered him before. He often questioned it. Why did Ron have to have the attention of so many, even ones that were taken? What did he get out of it?

"Harry."

Shit, Ginny sounded annoyed.

"Huh?" Harry said, facing forward again.

"We have a match against Ravenclaw Saturday," Ginny said, "You think this will affect Ron at all?"

"Nah," Harry replied, waving a hand, "He's not with either of them, just-" he clamped his mouth shut, setting his fork down.

"Just what?" Hermione said in a high-pitched, parental voice, "Just…just…sleeping with them?"

"I didn't say that," Harry replied slowly, "I was just going to say hanging out with them, or…dating. Sort of."

"Just admit it," Ginny said with a sigh, "Ron's being a slut."

"Nothing wrong with that," an Irish voice said. Seamus leaned forward on the table. "Being a tramp builds character. Besides…" he raised his eyebrows, "Ron's only sleeping with one of them." Next to him, Dean whacked his shoulder with the back of his hand.

"It's not our business," he snapped.

"Which one?" Ginny asked, ignoring Dean.

Seamus grinned and sat back in his seat, not answering. Ginny looked at Harry, who said quickly, "I don't know."

In the common room that night, Harry sat on the couch with his girlfriend, analyzing the practice they had just had. Ron was sitting at a table with Dean and Seamus, in the farthest corner of the study area.

"No, no, he's doing great," Ginny was saying irritably after Harry made a comment about Ron not letting in any goals. It bothered Harry very much that Ginny never seemed pleased when her brother was doing well. Shouldn't she be happy he was getting better? It never seemed so.

"I think we're set," Harry replied, "Ron said he's going to watch Ravenclaw's morning practice and give me some feedback. We already know Cho isn't playing well."

"Terry is a really decent chaser, especially with Mike. Roger's a solid keeper."

"How are their beaters?"

"Fred and George are better."

The twins seemed completely uninterested in their brother's love life. Lately, they and Lee had been so wrapped up in their business plans that they were mostly oblivious to whatever was going on. Harry wondered if that would change if they found out Ron was sleeping with a Ravenclaw in their year, and captain of his quidditch team.

If he was.

"True," Ginny replied. Then she glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled. "Well, I better get upstairs." As she stood she planted a kiss on Harry's lips and then walked away.

Harry sighed and tucked his notes away, but caught the sensation of someone staring at him. He looked up, straight over to Ron's table, where his best friend was looking at him with a smirk. Harry glared at him and continued putting his things away.

When he stood and shouldered his bag, he began to head for the stairs. He hesitated before starting up them, wanting to see if Ron was following him, but also not wanting to give him the satisfaction of checking. Then he realized…he had no interest in playing this game tonight. Every time he thought about it he could only see the marks on Ron's waist of someone else touching him. Someone else kissing him. Someone else causing him pleasure that Harry yet to have the privilege of.

He was angry.

So Harry simply began walking up the stairs. Unwillingly he counted them. By the time he reached six, he heard footsteps. And by the time he hit the ninth, there was a hand on his arm. The familiar scent of Firewhisky and peppermint made Harry's mouth water. Within seconds he was being guided.  

Harry immediately flipped around, pushing Ron against the wall. He hadn't meant to be so rough about it. Ron almost looked scared. Harry gripped his hips tightly and held Ron firmly in place.

"Why do you always flirt with them in front of me?" he growled.

"Are you jealous?" Ron retorted quietly, "I thought you liked my sister." He was breathing a bit raggedly.

"That doesn't mean I like seeing you giving all your attention to everyone else."

"I have to watch you do it."

Harry stared coolly at Ron until Ron seemed to shrink. Harry then dropped his hands from Ron's waist and walked up one step before turning back to look at him.  

When he saw the hurt, confused expression on his best friends face he almost took a step back down. Honestly, Ron almost looked close to tears. Harry had to admit he was startled.

"Why are you so mad at me?" Ron finally asked quietly.

"I'm not," Harry lied, moving to the tenth step. Ron followed. "I'm just…pissed off."

"Oh," Ron whispered.

Harry swallowed. "Look, Ron…" he said slowly, "It's just that…I am with Ginny. And…I'm not gay. I think, maybe…maybe we should stop this. You're always with other guys, and I'm dating your sister. I can't waste energy being jealous about someone I will never have."

"I…oh…" Ron's voice was wavering. He no longer seemed so confident. He looked…small.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Harry said gently, "I love messing around with you, but…"

"Okay."

Ron bit his lip, then looked down, and continued up the stairs. Harry's heart pounded so hard inside his chest that it hurt. But he had become overrun with the feeling that they were doing something wrong, and because of it Harry was losing interest in his girlfriend. And he knew, in reality…nothing could really happen between him and Ron.

Besides, Harry was quite certain that he wasn't gay. He wasn't attracted to any other bloke except for Ron. And he assumed it was only because he and Ron were already close.

That, and Ron really knew how to turn a guy on.

"Ron…" Harry said, following him. But Ron ignored him and walked into the dorm. "Ron, talk to me."

"It's okay," Ron replied, tossing his robes onto his trunk, "I get it."

"Get what?" Harry asked, walking over to stand in front of him.

"You don't want me because other people have already had me," Ron replied in an emotionless sort of tone. He would not meet Harry's eye, instead focusing on undoing his tie, and the buttons on his shirt. "It's fine. Some people are like that."

"That's…" Harry said, blinking, "That's not true at all, Ron. But…I'm taken. I'm in a relationship. We wouldn't be going anywhere would we?"

"So?"

"So…"

Ron sighed heavily as he tugged his arms out of his sleeves. "So who the hell said anything about dating?" he asked.

"I guess…neither of us."

"Then what's so wrong about it?" Ron asked. Harry had a strong sense that Ron was making a last ditch effort to pull him back in.

Before Harry could answer, Seamus and Dean strolled into the room. Dean stopped walking, looking from Ron's upset expression, to Harry's cluelessly frustrated one. Seamus ignored Harry completely and went over to Ron, leaning close to him and saying something Harry could not hear. Ron relaxed at whatever he said.

"What's going on?" Dean asked Harry as he dropped his bookbag onto his bed. "Did we walk into an argument or something?" He cast a look at his boyfriend, who was still talking to Ron quietly. Ron's expression gave away nothing but relief.

"No," Harry said quickly. For one moment, Ron caught his eye, but he immediately looked away.

"Um," Dean replied in a way that said he did not believe him, "Okay." He suddenly seemed wary as he looked back at Seamus.

Harry wondered if Dean, who probably held more answers to most of the rumors surrounding Ron than Harry did, had a slight mistrust of his friend due to his supposed reputation of hitting on guys who were taken.

But Ron then turned away from Seamus with the slightest shake of his head. Seamus, smiling, walked away, going straight for Dean, who turned away.

Fuck.

Was Ron starting to come between them, now? Harry began to unbutton his shirt as he watched Ron pull clothes out of his trunk. At one point, Harry noticed his eyes drifting over to the left, where Dean and Seamus stood. Seamus was now trying to get the attention of his boyfriend, who looked irritated.

Maybe he had imagined it  -it had happened quickly-, but Harry swore he saw Ron's lips flick into a smirk for half a second, before he turned his attention back to his clothes. Harry walked over to him. He had to say something.

Didn't he?

He was torn. On the one hand, Ron was his best friend, shouldn't Harry be loyal to him and just turn a blind eye to his…unpleasant habits? And on the other hand…Ron was his best friend. Wasn't it Harry's responsibility to tell his friend that the games he played were hurtful to other people?

"Ron," he said quietly as Ron straightened from his trunk, "Don't."

"Don't what?" Ron asked, his eyebrows meeting in the middle.

"Just…not Dean and Seamus, okay?" Harry whispered. "It would be a war zone in here if you mess with them."

Ron stared at Harry with such intensity that Harry began to question what he'd just done. Was he wrong? Was the tension between Dean and Seamus not because of Ron?

"Why do you suddenly have a vendetta against me?" Ron finally asked, now looking hurt. "I haven't done anything to you."

"I don't have a vendetta against you, Ron," Harry said quickly, "I just…I think you're being kind of reckless and I don't want you to get hurt."

Then Ron said something that made Harry's brain feel like it was on an extremely fast roller coaster, taking all sorts of twists and turns to try to figure out what the hell Ron even meant by this.

"Why would you let anyone hurt me?"

"I…" Harry started, then he paused. The way Ron had worded this response was so confusing. He had somehow warped this conversation into Harry warning him about getting hurt, into…why wouldn't Harry protect him if that happened? Or…why wouldn't Harry prevent that from happening?

"I will always protect you," Harry finally said truthfully, "But…I'm not always going to be around. I'm not with you every second of everyday, Ron."

Ron nodded, then turned away, pulling a shirt over his head. Unwillingly, Harry's eyes once again went to the bruise on his waist. Not only did it bother Harry that someone had gotten so possessive they had to leave their mark, but also…why did they have to grab that hard?

It had to have been Roger.

"Ron," Harry said desperately, stepping closer to him, "Come on…I'm not trying to hurt your feelings or anything, I just…I'm worried about you. And I'm worried about what I'm doing too. It's not fair to Ginny. So…talk to me, please."

Ron turned around and headed out of the dorm. Harry swiftly followed him. Ron stopped on the ninth step, and Harry stood in front of him.

"Talk to me," he said more gently, "What's going on?"

"What am I doing that's so wrong?" Ron asked, and his eyes shone with what seemed like pent up emotion. "Everyone keeps making all these jokes and remarks about how I broke up Mike and Cho. But you know what? I didn't do a fucking thing that Mike didn't ask for. He cheated on her. So how am I the bad guy here?" He exhaled shakily. "And now…now you're just…tossing me aside…because…I don't even understand why…"

He had made a few good points. Harry nodded. "You're right," he said with a defeated sigh, and his gut clenched at how upset Ron looked now. He glanced up and down the staircase and then stepped toward his best friend, pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I don't know what I was trying to say."

He came to realize that he had been trying to end this game with Ron…and Ron had gotten him right back here less than ten minutes later. But as Harry held onto his best friend, feeling both of their heart rates lower significantly, he wondered why the hell he had ever had that thought. Why would he end this? Why would he ever end something where he got to touch his best friend like this?

It was the only way he could.

The next morning, Harry nudged Ron as his watch began to beep. With an irritated groan, Ron turned away from him. Harry laughed lightly and laid back down. He didn't know what he had been thinking. He needed Ron. And Ron needed him. They couldn't disconnect.

"I'm serious, Seamus."

Harry opened his eyes when he heard Dean's hushed tones.

"Oh my God, Dean…I love you, and I understand where you're coming from, but you need to stop thinking there is anything going on between me and-"

"He likes you."

"We are both friends with Ron, okay? And I don't go around accusing you of hooking up with him!"

"I never accused you of hooking up with him. I just said he likes you, and you were flirting with him."

"Right, well, just let me know when you're over this episode of paranoia, okay?"

After that, there was the sound of the dorm room door shutting. Only moments later, it was opening and shutting again. Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked down at Ron, who was still asleep. Harry had seen Ron spending more time with Dean and Seamus, but he had never seen nor heard it causing any tension until last night and this morning.

Harry nudged Ron again. "Hey," he said with a yawn, "You said you would go to Ravenclaw's practice this morning."

"Yeah," Ron grumbled, rolling onto his back. "I have to go meet Mike in the locker room."

"Oh?" Harry asked flatly, the implication clear.

"Don't give me that," Ron said snappishly as he sit up, "You asked me to spy on them, remember?"

"I know, I know," Harry replied regretfully, rubbing the back of his neck, "I just didn't think he'd demand sex from you just to sit through practice."

"Well it's not really a demand when I offer it, is it?" Ron replied, raising his eyebrows. He swung his long legs over the bed and stood. "I'm not going to apologize for enjoying sex. It's meant to be enjoyed, you know." He stopped, blinking. "Or…maybe you don't. Do you?"

"You want to know if I shag your sister?" Harry asked with an amused smirk.

"No, not really," Ron replied with a grimace. "Oh wait, you did sleep with Cho didn't you?"

Harry's smirk fell. "How did you know that?" he asked. He'd tried to forget it. Anyone who thought Cho crying when they kissed for the first time was overemotional, had no idea what she was like after losing her virginity. Things got wet for all the wrong reasons.

"Mike," Ron replied with a chuckle, "Mike knows everything about everyone."

"Well you would think that about the guy who took your virginity, wouldn't you?" Harry shot back humorously.

"I didn't lose my virginity to Mike," Ron replied, tilting his head.

"What?" Harry asked, stunned. When Ron had talked about sex for the first time, openly, it had always been centered around Mike. Naturally, he'd assumed the Ravenclaw had been Ron's first. "Who did you lose it to then?"

Ron chuckled again, his cheeks turning pink before he stepped into a pair of jeans. "Well if I tell you," he said slowly, "You really can't tell anyone. Especially any single one of my siblings, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said skeptically. Now he was nervous. "Why? Who was it?"

Ron pulled on a forest-green sweater that made his skin and eyes glow. He smirked, shoving his hands into his back pockets. "Lee."

"Lee?" Harry repeated, confused at first. But then it hit him. "Lee?! Lee Jordan? Fred and George's friend Lee?"

"Yeah," Ron said casually, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "This summer before you showed up. He was staying with us for a while." Ron sat down on his trunk. "He'd already kind of been hitting on me, as soon as I came out. He said he had a feeling. Asked if I'd ever tried anything yet. About half a bottle of Firewhisky later and…" he shrugged, "So…we kind of hooked up every night until he left and you showed up."

Harry listened, and then he had to laugh. Because it was diabolical. Screwing your older brothers best friend was exactly something Ron would do. Take the attention he yearned for.

"Have you guys done anything here?" Harry asked curiously, unsure if he really wanted to know. But it was too late.  

"A few times," Ron replied. "Once in the prefects bathroom. Once in the Astronomy Tower. And a couple times in the dungeons."

"The dungeons?" Harry repeated, aghast.

"Snape's office," Ron said with a smug grin, "You have no idea how invigorating it is to get shagged on his desk."

Harry had to take a pause. He imagined bending Ron over his least-favorite person's office furniture. It would certainly be exhilarating. Especially if he somehow wound up in there to be yelled at. It would be much easier to endure Snape's verbal abuse knowing what he'd done there…

"Imagining it?" Ron asked, amused.

"No," Harry scoffed, kneeling beside his own trunk, and willing his throbbing erection to go back down.

"Sure you were. Was it me?"

Harry looked over at his best friend. He asked this so casually. They weren't even on the steps. Wasn't this against the rules? Ron smiled at him innocently.

"No," Harry replied, in a way that clearly meant 'yes.'

"Right," Ron said slowly, standing, "Because you're not gay." His smile did not falter. He knew Harry was lying to himself. Hell, Harry knew he was lying to himself. But for him…it was only Ron. No other wizard had ever caught his eye. But the moment Ron had come out, it was as though Harry's brain had said 'now there's a possibility.'

And ever since his best friend had looked him dead in the eye and said 'kiss me,' Harry imagined kissing him at least a dozen times a day. He had to have Ron. He had to. He needed to just pin him down and-

"Well," Ron said breezily, ignoring Harry's non-reaction, "I'm going down to the pitch. I'll find you after."

'After', it turned out, spilled well into breakfast. Harry and Ginny kept wondering why the Ravenclaw practice was taking so long…that was until Hermione pointed out that Terry Boot was sitting at the table. Along with their two beaters, and their third chaser. The other members of the quidditch team  -Roger, Cho, and Michael Corner-, were nowhere to be found.

"That's probably not good," Ginny remarked quietly.

At the same time, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione rose and headed for the entrance hall. They had barely made it through the front door when they immediately spotted Cho, and her friend Marietta, walking up the front steps. Cho saw who was standing there and pushed passed them to get inside. She was, as per usual, crying, wiping her face with her practice robes.  

Marietta stopped to glower at them. Harry specifically.

"How do you let your best friend walk around this castle destroying relationships?" she asked in a venomous tone.

This made Harry angry. Ever since what Ron had said the night before about it being unfair that he held so much of the blame, he'd felt the injustice of it all.  

"Why is their breakup Ron's fault?" he spat back. "He didn't do anything that Mike didn't ask for. Mike is the one that fucked up here, he's the one who cheated."

"And someone who shags someone knowing they're taken is so much better?" Marietta shot back. "You know what, Chosen One?" She said this with the same tone one might use to describe bubotuber pus. "You act like you stand on such a moral high ground unless it's one of your friends, then you just turn a blind eye."

She scoffed and then followed the path of Cho Chang. Harry shot dark looks at Ginny and Hermione. "Why didn't you stand up for him?" he demanded angrily.

"Because he is in the wrong, too, Harry," Hermione said softly, "Ron's not innocent here. He could have chosen any other bloke in the castle, and he only goes for the one's who are taken. You've seen it yourself."

"He doesn't only go for guys who are taken," Harry snapped impatiently as they continued down the stairs.

"Yeah," Ginny said slowly, "But he doesn't exactly date those guys, Harry."

"He doesn't date the taken guys either," Harry said, which was a terrible argument, he knew, but he felt loyal to Ron. He had to defend him. That was his best friend.

"That's not any better," Ginny replied. "Admit it. Something's up with Ron and I feel like it has nothing to do with him being out now."

Harry ignored them the rest of the way down to the pitch. As they approached the field, they were a bit surprised to see that Ron was standing around with Michael…

…and Roger. The three of them seemed to be having a fairly serious conversation, though none of them seemed uptight or angry about anything, and in fact they paused to laugh every once in a while. Ron did not seem uncomfortable around the captain this time.

Yet when Roger Davies noticed the three of them approaching, he quickly put one hand firmly on Ron's shoulder and leaned close to him to murmur something. Next to Roger, Mike was smiling and nodding. Ron playfully pushed Roger away, shaking his head with a smirk. He was blushing.

Ron's blushing was the only thing that ever gave away whether he was actually smitten by someone in the moment, as opposed to when he was simply faking it to boost someone's ego. Why had Ron's behavior changed so drastically since the morning before?

Harry approached his best friend, but he was eyeing Roger Davies.

"What's going on?" Harry asked with a heavy exhale.

"Just…quidditch," Ron replied. He ducked his head after he spoke, hiding a smile. He was also hiding from Harry's gaze. Harry could tell. Ron knew when he was upset or irritated.

"Uh huh," Harry said flatly.

"Easy," Roger said with a taunting lilt, "We didn't do anything to your little birdwatcher."

"Shut up," Ron scoffed, and as he straightened, Harry bristled.

The more Ron avoided Harry's eye contact, the more Harry was sure he'd been drinking. Ron never looked him in the eye when he was drinking when he shouldn't be. He knew very well that Harry could always tell. When Ron drank, there was always a telltale redness that popped up along his waterline. At first Harry could only see it when he was close, but now he could tell from further away.

"Well thanks," Harry said sarcastically. Now he shot a glare at Michael Corner, who had the good sense to look a bit sheepish. But when he and Rock locked their eyes they both smirked. "Ron," Harry said briskly, "Come on."

When Ron stepped away from the Ravenclaws, Roger chuckled. "Uh oh," he said, amused, "Daddy is mad."

"Oh, shut up," Ginny spat, taking both Ron and Harry's arms and dragging them away.

"What the hell is wrong with you three?" Ron asked, ripping his arm away from his sister, "Was I not told to go to their practice?"

"Well what did you do to Cho?" Hermione replied, "She ran into the castle all upset and crying."

"She's always crying," Ron said, "What else is new? She bursts into tears any time she sees me or Mike. That's a personal problem. I didn't do anything to her."

"Ron-" Ginny said, exasperated.

"You don't get an opinion on my life!" Ron snapped as he stopped walking, "Just because you're my sister doesn't mean I owe you anything. If you don't like how I choose to spend my time then ignore it, like Fred and George."

"Is that what you think?" Ginny spat back, "Fred and George have plenty of opinions about you. They just decided it'd be a better lesson if you crashed and burned all on your own. I have an opinion because I'm trying to prevent that."

Harry was torn. He wanted to jump in. But who's side would he take? His girlfriends? Or his best friend who he played overtly sexual games with on a regular basis?

"Arguing with each other isn't going to get you anywhere," Hermione finally spoke up, saving Harry. "If you want to work things out you-"

"Oh, I'm done," Ginny interrupted, shaking her head, and glaring at her brother, "Do what you want to do, Ron. But when you get hurt I'm not going to be there." Ignoring Harry completely, Ginny began to walk away. But she stopped after taking about four steps and turned around.

"By the way," she said with narrowed eyes, "What do you think Fred and George will do when they find out you were shagging their best friend?" And with that, she continued on her way, the force of her forward movement causing her hair to billow behind her.

"You what?" Hermione asked, her shock evident in her tone and her features.

"What the hell did you tell her for?" Ron exclaimed, looking at Harry with sudden betrayal.

"Ron, I didn't," Harry replied quickly, "I wouldn't. You know I wouldn't. I have no clue how she knows. But I mean…"

"What?" Ron asked, now sounding defeated.

"You did that in your room," Harry said quietly, "Maybe she heard you."

"We weren't in my room," Ron replied, "We were in the barn, and…I…" Ron looked awkwardly at Hermione before he stepped closer to Harry and saw in a low voice, "I couldn't exactly make any noise."

Harry swallowed, his mouth watering at the idea of holding his hand hard over Ron's mouth to smother his noises. Or squeezing his throat.

"So…" Ron said after pulling away and clearing his throat, "That means…"

"Lee told someone," Harry finished.

"He is sort of a gossip," Hermione offered, "Especially about his…activities."

"He told me he wouldn't," Ron said quickly, running a shaking hand through his hair.

Harry hadn't seen Ron look this vulnerable for a while. At least not genuinely. "I'll talk to him," Harry said comfortingly, "If you want me to."

"Um…" Ron said, and then he looked over his shoulder, back toward the quidditch pitch, where Michael and Roger were still talking, gesturing frequently to the sky, outlining different plays. "No. No, I'll take care of it." He then began to walk back to the Ravenclaws.

The second Ron began approaching them, Roger and Michael immediately walked toward him, meeting him halfway.

"What's wrong?" Roger asked, his forehead creased with a sort of protective concern.

Ron lowered his voice to where Harry and Hermione couldn't hear him. But as he spoke, the Ravenclaws cast a few glances at each other, looking bothered by whatever Ron was saying. Finally, they gave a response and began striding back to the castle with purpose.

"They'll take care of it," Ron said when he walked back to his friends, and looked much more relaxed.

"They knew about you and Lee?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow.

Ron shrugged.

"Then how do you know they weren't the ones who told Ginny?"

"Because they wouldn't," Ron replied as they began walking again.

"Well," Hermione said in a snippy tone, "When people get drunk, they can say things they don't mean to say, and then completely forget about it."

"Yeah, Hermione," Ron retorted somewhat viciously, "We know about being drunk and blacking out a little bit more than you do. They still would never tell Ginny that. They don't care enough."

It was an odd way to confirm it, but when Ron added that last part, it made Harry genuinely believe that the Ravenclaws had no reason to tell. It was just not interesting information in their eyes. On his right, Hermione made a squeaky, disapproving noise with her throat.

"What?" Ron asked bitterly, "You have a lecture for me, too?"

"Well, you shouldn't be so well informed about drinking to that point if-" Hermione started.

"Okay!" Ron exclaimed, and it was clear he was extremely frustrated, "What the fuck is wrong with everyone? Why does everyone put words in my mouth?" he glowered so hard at Hermione that she took a step backward. "I never said I was drinking to that point. I said we know more about drinking to that point than you do! So tell me, please, where you decided to just assume I drink that much?"

"Ron," Harry said firmly, yet remaining soft and patient, "Calm down." He didn't want to point out that Ron, in fact, was already tipsy. Not only did he have the giveaway red line along his eyes, but Harry also noticed that when Ron was at the start of his drinking, he had the tendency to speak in questions, guiding people through the conversation without having to do much, because once people would start responding to the questions they would thereby take over the conversation completely.

Ron's cunning was almost terrifying when Harry really thought about it.

"No," Ron argued, still glaring at Hermione, who looked startled and on the verge of tears, "Why would you just assume that about me?"

"Because you smell like alcohol and it's not even noon, Ron," Hermione said, her voice lightly quivering.

"Everything okay?"

The three of them looked in the direction of the interjecting voice. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan were taking a stroll along the grounds that unseasonably warm evening. Justin had his hand entwined with Ernie's, but the moment he had seen Ron in distress…he dropped it. His boyfriend instantly shot him a 'what the hell' sort of look, but Justin was already on his way over, so he followed.

"We're fine," Harry said quickly.

Please, please go back to your boyfriend.

Ron, however, jumped on his window of opportunity.

"Yeah," he said, suddenly going chipper at a swift pace, "Where are you off to?"

"Ron," Harry said under his breath, "Don't."

"Ron…" Hermione murmured as well.

"Just down to the lake," Justin replied with a one-shouldered shrug and a light smile, clearly not hearing Harry or Hermione's quiet pleas. Ernie's eyes were going dark.

"Oh," Ron replied smoothly, somehow making his eyes twinkle on command, "Great morning for it."

Hermione was turned away, wiping a tear from her cheek. She looked angry.

Justin's smile grew. Hary silently pleaded with him, begged him not to say-

"Want to come with us?"

"Ron-" Harry started, putting a hand on his arm rather desperately. Ginny had a point. Ron shouldn't be salacious with other people's boyfriends. It wasn't right.

"Sure," Ron replied brightly.

"Ron," Harry said, "We have practice in two hours."

"Okay," Ron said vaguely.

Ron and Justin began walking, Ernie trailing behind. For a moment he tried to catch up, but then stopped and turned away, and began walking back.

Justin did not notice.