Knowing

Harry felt Ron's body next to him when he woke up far too early the next morning. He sat up, rubbing his eyes before placing his glasses on. With a hint of a smile, he looked down at his best friend. But then his smile washed away when Ron shifted onto his back, and the blanket slid down his chest. The silvery-white, rope-like scars stood out, almost glowing, on his skin in the early morning light that was peeking through the small gap in the curtains.

The scars wound around his wrists and up his arms, wrapping around his shoulders and then curling up his neck, the last disappearing behind his left ear and up into his hairline.

Without truly meaning to, Harry reached out and trailed his finger along the scar running down his best friends forearm. One of the many that lived there. Ron had held the brain with his left hand, and the rolls of film had clung hard to this arm first.

But the deepest were around his neck.

That summer, Ron had admitted to Harry that the scars on his neck sometimes burned. They burn so bad, he had said, and it's horrific. It feels like someone held barbed wire over a flame and then wrapped it around my neck.

Harry never forgave himself for leaving Ron behind. He never planned to. It plagued him.

Yes, Neville had managed to free him, but…

Harry had seen the fear in Ron's eyes. The pleading. Maybe the curse had made him loopy, but the way Ron acted about the whole terrifying scenario…sometimes Harry wondered if he had been somewhat conscious behind the effects. Still himself.

When Harry's finger reached Ron's wrist, he pulled his hand away. Ron shifted, turning his head to the other side, and tucked his arm under his pillow.

His waist now exposed, Harry's eyes couldn't help but dart to the bruise. His jaw clenched. It was almost painful. More than anything it made Harry upset that he did not know who'd left it. There were at least five possibilities.

"You could always leave your own."

"Jesus!" Harry exclaimed quietly, turning his head in the direction of the voice. It was Seamus from his own bed, seemingly watching Harry in amusement. Dean's arm was slung over his bare waist.

"Shut up," Harry snapped as quietly as possible.

"Oh, get over it," Seamus whispered back, just as quietly, "You're not his keeper. It's not like we threw him down and forced him."

"How, pray tell, did you get your boyfriend to make out with the guy he was jealous of?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. To be honest, he was genuinely curious about this.

"Didn't take much," Seamus chuckled, "Ron's very pretty. Dean is a sucker for a cute redhead. It was only a matter of time before he worked out his problems in a way that worked for him."

Harry rolled his eyes. Dean and Seamus's sex life needed analyzed by a professional. Then again, so did Ron's…probably. It did not go unnoticed by him that Ron had been involved in at least three sexual entanglements yesterday and all before dinner.

Also, Harry was having a hard time trying to ignore the Slytherin's. He hadn't brought it up with Ron the night before simply because they had already had a rocky sort of day. And when they had made up, he didn't want to ruffle any more feathers.

Besides, was Ron actually doing what they had accused him of? Sleeping with the captains to win games?

Harry very strongly did not want to believe them. He couldn't. Ron didn't need another bad reputation.

So, for now, Harry was choosing to ignore it. He wouldn't believe a few Slytherin's remarks over his best friend.

Harry sighed and laid back down. He wasn't ready for their match today. Ron had completely overtaken his mind. Not only in lewd daydreams, but also in his worries. Maybe his best friend was acting a bit recklessly. But he had promised to stop drinking early in the day.

And he seemed happy, didn't he?

Isn't that what mattered?

Harry turned to face Ron, so he was no longer facing his amused dormmate. When he did, Ron turned toward him.

"Morning," he mumbled sleepily without opening his eyes.

"Morning," Harry replied with a laugh, "Keep sleeping if you want. It's early."

"Okay," Ron said with a yawn, and he pulled his blanket back over himself.

Harry remained awake. He crawled out of bed and closed the curtains around Ron. Then he took his time showering and getting dressed. When he returned to the dorm, his stomach dropped when he looked out the window and saw that it was pouring rain.

Just their luck, really.

Ron had finally woken and was sitting up in Harry's bed with the curtains now open. He looked over at Harry and grimaced.

"That's not good," he said with a sigh, "Should we reschedule?" he stretched his arms above his head with a light groan.

"Up to Ravenclaw, too," Harry replied, trying not to think about how unnecessarily attractive that had been. Then he cleared his throat and asked, "What would your pal Roger say?"

Ron rolled his eyes as he stood. "He won't reschedule." He smirked.

"Then why'd you suggest it?" Harry asked, close to irritable.

"To see what you would say," Ron replied, unashamed. Sometimes Harry just did not understand.

He glanced around the room. Dean and Seamus had left and so had Neville. He scanned Ron's partially nude body, and Ron met his eye. It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes now.

"Get dressed," he said with an annoyed huff.

"Bossy," Ron muttered.  

Harry snapped his head in his direction. "Have you been sleeping with him?" he asked, finally letting his jealousy-fueled curiosity get the better of him. He immediately felt stupid.

"Roger?" Ron asked, cocking his head, "No."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Harry," Ron replied slowly, "Why?"

Harry was saved from having to respond when their dormitory door opened. They both looked over to see Ginny. Ron groaned under his breath and turned away. He sat on his bed to dig through his trunk, finding a shirt and sweater. Ginny ignored him and looked at Harry.

"Are we still playing?" she asked, gesturing to the window with her head.  

"Probably," Harry replied, staring out the window. "Ron doesn't think Roger will agree to reschedule."

"Oh," Ginny said flatly, crossing her arms. She took a step toward her brother. "What? Can't control all your men?"

"Roger Davies is not one of my men," Ron spat viciously. He was clearly getting defensive. "He's a friend. He's like…" Ron let out a sharp, spiteful exhale, "It doesn't fucking matter! But I'm not sleeping with Roger, and I wish everyone would stop saying that."

"Why?" Ginny asked.

"Gin," Harry said in exasperation, "Drop it. Just…get off his case for once." It felt odd actually telling her to do something instead of a soft, leading suggestion or asking as a favor. But he was getting irritated with the way Ginny treated Ron. She walked around calling him a tramp and judging him for his behavior, when Ron never judged Ginny for her behavior, and typically only bothered her in a brotherly way.

"Excuse me?" Ginny said, her eyes narrowed, and brow furrowed.

"Don't worry about it," Ron said with a sigh, slamming his trunk shut, "I'll meet you on the field."

"Ron-" Harry started.

"Oh, let him go," Ginny spat, not backing down regardless of what Harry had said.

Ron headed for the door, still topless. Harry watched him carefully. Ron hovered in the doorway for a moment, before letting the door slowly shut behind him. Getting the message, Harry hesitated before turning to his girlfriend.

"Why are you always on his case?" he asked, feeling like he may be glaring more than he meant to.  

"Because he's my brother," Ginny replied sharply, "And-"

"Just, hang on," Harry interrupted, holding up a hand, "I need to go catch Ron and tell him something. Stay here, and we can talk when I get back."

Without giving her time to respond now, Harry rushed out of the room and flew down the stairs.

Ron was waiting. But only on the tenth step. He looked at Harry, slightly disgruntled, his clothes bunched up in his hands.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, reaching the step and facing him.

"I…" Ron started, then he sighed and shook his head, "I just don't understand why she hates me so much. I've never done anything to her, not horribly. We're brother and sister. Sure I tease her, but she always has to use the worst thing against me. And she's not always right, either."

"Ignore her," Harry said quietly, "What she thinks of you isn't important."

Ron took one step down, making Harry's stomach do a backflip. He followed.

"I care what you think," Ron whispered, "And…you've already got problems with how I'm living my life, and then you spend time with Ginny and she's saying awful things about me and-"

Harry glanced up and down the stairs, then put a hand on Ron's chest and pushed him against the wall. "I have my own mind," he said firmly, "You, of all people, should know that." He stepped closer into his best friend. Ron's gaze fell, but there was a shadow of a smile on his lips.

"She'll get into your head," he murmured, "She always does."

Harry put his lips very close to his best friends and grabbed his chin forcefully. Ron's eyes flicked upward. "So do you," Harry replied in a deep voice, "More than anything, more than anyone."

His best friend let out a terribly slow breath. He tilted his head forward, resting his forehead against Harry's.

"Sorry," he whispered faintly.

"You've really got to stop apologizing," Harry replied. They both paused to listen to the staircase and heard nothing. Harry reached up and curled his hand around the back of Ron's neck, caressing his jaw with his thumb.

"Or what?" Ron teased.

"I guess I'll have to punish you."

Ron pulled his head back to eye Harry carefully, before the corner of his mouth flicked up into a smirk. "I'm sorry," he said in a low but mischievous tone.

Caught, Harry smirked back at him. He listened to the stairs once again and then moved his thumb from Ron's jaw to his throat. The change in his best friend was immediate. Ron held his breath, his eyes seemed to glaze over. His pupils dilated. He lost his smirk, his lips slightly parted. There was a soft 'thump' as the bundle of clothing in Ron's hands fell to the floor.

"Naughty," Harry whispered.

Ron did not respond. He was only watching Harry. Only listening to him. Only seeing him. It was intoxicating. Harry was dizzy. Drunk with the adrenaline rush he got from being in complete control.

Would Ron kiss him?

Harry pulled Ron's face close. "Kiss me," he growled, trying to keep himself from getting too excited. Even if Ron did kiss him, it wasn't like Harry could fuck him right there. "I know you want to," he murmured, "I know you want to be a good boy for me."

There was a long second of loud silence. Harry could feel how rapidly Ron's heart was beating, the vein in his neck throbbing fitfully. Then Ron let out a shaky exhale. "Stop," he whispered.

Harry could tell he wasn't saying this in fear or pain, but rather as a plea for him to back off so he wouldn't cave. Smiling, Harry lowered his hand and backed away. Ron ran a trembling hand through his hair, taking a calming breath. Harry bent down and gathered the dropped clothing at their feet and handed it to him when he straightened.

"Asshole," Ron remarked, taking a step down.

"Don't be like that," Harry said with a laugh, "You started it."

"Guess you better get back to your girlfriend," Ron replied, raising his eyebrows.

Harry frowned at him, and Ron shrugged. Before either of them could speak again, they heard multiple footsteps coming up the stairs. Soon, Dean and Seamus were halting in front of them.

"Ron," Seamus said breathlessly, "Um…Ernie is looking for you."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, completely aghast, "Why?"

"Dunno," Seamus replied, "I mean…" he eyed everyone without finishing his sentence. He didn't have to. Everyone knew what he'd been about to say.

"Where is he?" Harry asked, taking the bunched-up clothing from Ron, and handing him his shirt from it.

"Just outside the portrait," Dean answered uneasily, "He's not happy." He was eyeing Ron's bare torso.

After Ron pulled on his shirt, he went very calm. "Alright," he said slowly, "It's fine. I'll talk to him."

"Ron," Harry argued, "He-"

"It's not like he'll fight me," Ron said with a scoff, "Once he realizes I'm not the one to blame."

"I'm going with you," Harry said, following him down the stairs.

"I'll be okay," Ron replied with a laugh.

It irked Harry the slightest bit that Ron seemed completely unbothered to have been caught. It was clear that Justin more than likely had let his guilt catch up to him and told his boyfriend about his disloyalty.

Why did that not bug Ron in any way? Why didn't he feel guilty?

When they exited the portrait, they spotted Ernie just down the hall, pacing back and forth with his arms folded. When he saw Ron he began to stride forward. Ron met him halfway. Harry remained back, wanting to give them privacy to talk, but wanting to be close enough to intervene if he needed to.

Surprisingly, Ernie was not yelling. He looked angry, and betrayed, and vengeful, but he did not yell. Him and Ron spoke wildly for a few minutes, both of them gesturing with their hands and arms. At one point, Ron held up his hands in a defeated way and began to speak calmly. For one brief moment, Ernie seemed to relax.

Then it happened.

The portrait opened again, and Ginny climbed through. "Harry!" she said angrily, "What the hell are you-"

"Shush!" Harry said quickly, waving at her not wanting her to interrupt the finally peaceful conversation.

Then, there was a split second of shouting, and then a few shrieks.

Harry and Ginny looked over to where Ron and Ernie had been.

But Ron was no longer there.

Ernie stood, seemingly frozen, at the top of one of the many staircases. Some of the staircases began to move. But at the bottom of the one nearest Ernie, on the landing, was Ron, crumpled on the ground with a trickle of blood causing a small puddle underneath his head. His body was completely lifeless.

The last thing Harry heard before his head went completely blank was Ginny screeching her brothers name in sheer terror.

"He bloody well better be getting expelled!"

"There is no evidence that suggests-"

"He pushed him! Everyone knows he pushed him! They were fighting right by those stairs!"

"Mr. Weasley, sit down!"

George plopped down in the chair next to Harry in Professor McGonagall's office. He, the twins, Hermione, Ginny, and Michael were all there. It had been them causing the most ruckus outside the hospital wing doors, thereby causing McGonagall to usher them all to her office. She had left once for a few minutes, then returned.

They now had been having the same conversation repeatedly.

"When will we know if he's okay?" Michael demanded. He was standing by the door, acting very much like a concerned boyfriend despite the fact that he…wasn't.

"When I know," Professor McGonagall repeated for the hundredth time, "You will know."

"Then could you go check?" Mike demanded, with full seriousness.

Harry and the twins exchanged a stunned look. It wasn't often that a student from another house would speak to another head of house like this. McGonagall stared Mike down until he rolled his eyes and turned away. However, after he did this, he opened the door and left.

It was at that moment that Harry knew Michael Corner was about to get more information about Ron's wellbeing than McGonagall had.

Ron had been floated away on a cloth stretcher by Madame Pomfrey, chased closely by Harry and Ginny. The Head Girl from Slytherin, who had witnessed the aftermath of the encounter had quickly taken Ernie away to Dumbledore or Madame Sprout.

Hermione, Fred, and George had heard about the incident very quickly and met Harry and Ginny outside the hospital wing just before Michael had shown up. He had been a wreck for a few moments, worried about Ron, but his worry switched to anger, and wanting to get his hands on Ernie.

Harry still wasn't sure whether or not he believed Ernie had pushed Ron down the stairs. On the one hand, it seemed very unlike a Hufflepuff to do something so vicious. Then Harry reminded himself that one of the traits of a Hufflepuff was also supposed to be loyalty, and Justin certainly did not have that. Harry also wondered what Justin thought of this whole ordeal.

What would he say?

Who's side was Justin on?

Would he defend Ernie, or would he side with Ron and say that Ernie had pushed him?

"Now," Professor McGonagall said, facing them, "Do any of you want to tell me why you feel so strongly that Mr. Macmillan pushed Mr. Weasley?"

Every single one of them was looking at Harry. Hermione and Ginny had inklings of what may have happened. Fred and George weren't entirely sure but felt very strongly that Ernie had pushed their brother due to all recounts of the event.

"No," Harry replied firmly, "We were just on our way to the pitch when we ran into Ernie. He…he said he needed to talk to Ron about something important. The next thing I know they're sort of yelling at each other. Ginny came out of the portrait and when I turned to look at her, I heard the yelling. When I looked back, Ron was at the bottom of the stairs."

"What's that Hufflepuff kid saying?" George asked furiously.

"I have been here as long as you have," McGonagall said curtly.

"What did he say when you went up to him?" Fred asked Harry.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing! I did not push him! It was an accident!"

"Like hell it was, Macmillan! You know I know what happened. Of course you fucking pushed him!"

"No I didn't! I swear I didn't, Harry!"

"He said it was an accident," Harry replied coolly. Truthfully, the memory was a bit foggy. Harry's heart and mind had been racing. He wanted to run to Ron, but so many people had already surrounded him. "That's all he said."

"How far were they from the staircase?" Professor McGonagall asked, scribbling on parchment with her quill. Was she writing down what he was saying?

"Er," Harry said, "A few feet."

"What were they yelling about?" Professor McGonagall inquired.

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly, "I gave them space. Ron asked me to." He sighed impatiently. "Look, I've told you everything I saw and heard. Can I go see if my best friend is okay?"

After a few more minutes of listening to McGonagall's quill scratching, and her clock ticking, she dismissed them. Once out of her office and down the hall, the twins and Ginny rounded on Harry.

"Cut the shit, Harry," George said in a threatening tone Harry had never heard him use before, especially with his tendency to be the cool-headed twin in comparison to Fred, "Ron and that guys boyfriend shagged, and then he got shoved down the stairs for it, didn't he?"

"I don't know," Harry snapped viciously. George didn't scare him. Harry had argued with much worse people. "And no one else knows aside from Justin, and Ernie."

"Fine," George spat, "I'll go find them then."

"Good luck," a voice nearby called out, "They're with Dumbledore."

Harry had never been more relieved to see Michael Corner in his life. Actually, he'd never been relieved to see Michael Corner at all. But it was as if what happened to Ron had suddenly bonded them somehow. Perhaps the Ravenclaw's feelings went a bit deeper than Harry expected.

"Find out anything else?" Harry asked him.

Michael looked around at the group, then his eyes settled back on Harry. "I'll talk to you," he said, then noticed Hermione and nodded at her, "And her. The rest can find out on their own."

"Why should we have to do that?" George demanded, striding toward the Ravenclaw deftly.

Not looking at all threatened, Mike sneered at them with a Malfoy-worthy expression. "Take a good look at the way you've treated your brother lately, then ask me that again." He took a couple steps, then paused and looked back at them frostily. "I wouldn't have been surprised if he chucked himself down those stairs on purpose."

"Excuse me?" George snapped.

"Look," the disgruntled Ravenclaw hissed, "Either you can let me tell them, and get the information from them, or I don't have to tell anyone. But I'm not wasting the energy on you three."

Without waiting for a response, Mike continued down the hall. Harry didn't look at any of Ron's siblings as he walked away as well, Hermione at his side, staying out of the argument. Mike dropped his voice once they were quite a distance from the Weasley's.

"Broken ribs," he said quietly, "Broken collar bone, broken wrist, and a fractured kneecap. That's…that's all they have until he wakes up. He hit his head, hard, and they don't know…" he sighed, "They don't know how bad it is. But…he's been unconscious since it happened."

"I guess that's for the best," Hermione said quietly, her voice quivering, "So he doesn't have to feel all that."

"That's what I said," Mike replied. They began walking down the stairs to the hospital wing. Each one of them clutched hard at the stone siding, as if terrified they were sure to slip and fall. "As for Justin and Ernie…I heard Ernie was sent to Dumbledore's right away. I actually have no clue where Justin is. I just didn't want anyone to go after him."

"Well, I will," Harry snarled, "He-"

"Did the right thing," Mike pointed out, giving Harry a sideways look, "He told his boyfriend what happened, and then he broke up with him. Justin has no control over Ernie's actions."

As they walked, nearly everyone stared at them, whispering to each other. Harry couldn't imagine what types of rumors were floating around now. Who was saying what? Then again…hearing Ron was involved in another breakup...the connections and implications were fairly clear. He supposed the only question people were really wondering was…

Did Ernie actually push him?

Harry was angry with Ginny again. If she hadn't popped out and distracted him, maybe one of them would have seen. Maybe Harry would have had a chance to intervene. Yet, once again, Harry had let Ron get close to death. He had looked the other way and let his best friend get painfully injured.

"But Ron had control over his," Hermione was saying to Mike, "He didn't have to sleep with Justin."

"Everyone did something wrong here," Harry interjected, "Let's just leave it at that."

"So you think Ernie pushed him, then?" Mike asked.

Harry recalled their encounter; for the most part Ernie seemed in control, just angry. Ron had remained calm and present in the conversation. Nothing had seemed to go overboard. However, Harry had been looking away when the shouting had begun. Had Ron said something that sparked a nerve? Had Ernie said something that sparked a nerve with Ron?

Or…had Ernie simply snapped?

They had finally reached the hospital wing. Harry and Hermione hovered, but Mike began pacing anxiously. "They let me in before," he said, "But I didn't see him, he's covered by the curtains. Slughorn was the one who told me how he was. He was bringing Madame Pomfrey some ingredients."

"What ingredients?" Hermione asked curiously.

"For pain," Mike replied. Hermione hesitated, and Mike narrowed his eyes. "I know potions and elixirs," he said bitterly, "You're not the only brain in the castle, Granger."

Harry could understand his frustration. Aside from Hermione, Mike had to be the smartest person he knew. He had finished assignments for Ron before, and occasionally  -if Ron begged enough- for Harry. The Ravenclaw had a quick wit, performed spells and curses with ease, and Harry noticed in classes they doubled up with that Mike rarely seemed to pay attention; yet, according to Ron, the lowest grade he had ever gotten was an E.

That, and Hermione did have a tendency to think she was the only intelligent student here. It got exhausting.

She did not apologize to Mike and instead ignored him thereafter.

"I'll go in," Harry offered, looking through the window on the swinging doors, "See if Pomfrey will talk to me."

Alas, the moment Harry went through the doors, she was screeching at him to leave and let her work.

"Well that's good," Mike said, and indeed he looked and sounded relieved. He ruffled his hair in the back and pushed his hands in his pockets, nodding.

"How is that good?" Harry demanded.

"Because," Mike replied patiently, "If she's not letting us see him, then she has no fear that he's dying. If she thought he'd never wake up, she would let us be saying goodbye right about now, wouldn't she?"

"That's morbid," Harry grumbled. But, yet again, the Ravenclaw made a good point.

"I'm going to go find Ginny, Fred, and George," Hermione said, not looking at Mike.

When she walked away, both Harry and Mike slid down against the wall, seating themselves on the floor. Harry had never spent time alone with Mike before. He felt like he should be asking him things.

"So," he said slowly, "Are you and Ron together?"

"No," Mike replied calmly, "That was never the plan. We're friends with benefits mostly."

"Mostly?" Harry asked with a snort.

"There's a…" Mike said very slowly, "Um…I guess…a certain dynamic that makes things a bit beyond friendship, but it's not a relationship really."

Blinking, Harry furrowed his brow and looked over at him. "Huh?"

Mike rested his head back on the wall and smiled with a short little scoff. "I'm not gonna talk about it behind Ron's back."

"How do you feel about him sleeping with Justin?" Harry asked, he meant to sound curious, but he somehow sounded tight and curt.

"I don't own him," Mike responded with a shrug. But his eyes had narrowed just the slightest, and his hands clasped his knees tightly. A tendon in his jaw flexed.

"Mike…" Harry said leadingly.

"Look," Mike said with a sigh, "If Ron and I wanted to be together, we would be. But…that's not us."

"Why not?" Harry asked, "Because of you? Or because of him?"

"Ron's going through a lot right now," Mike replied, "I'm not going to be the one to fix it. I would if I could. But I can't be that person. I don't go around trying to fix people." He shifted, resting his forearms on his knees and bringing his head back down to look at Harry. "I care about him so fucking much. I adore Ron. I miss him when he's not around. And I am scared shitless right now. But…"

"He's too much," Harry said quietly.

They both fell silent. Mike stuck his tongue in his cheek thoughtfully, then asked, "Are you gay?"

"No," Harry replied, trying to not sound automatic.

"Mm," the dark-haired Ravenclaw said knowingly, "Surprising."

"How?"

"With Ron around," Mike snorted, "Lord knows he's probably tried getting with you already. He's not easy to turn down."

They both fell silent, looking away from each other. The silence was not uncomfortable. Mike didn't press for more details, and Harry stopped his inquiries. Mike was an okay guy. Hell, he was sitting outside the hospital wing just as concerned as Harry was, for a bloke he wasn't even dating.

If Ron had a real boyfriend, this was exactly how Harry wanted him to behave. To demand information instead of waiting for it. To sit here and worry.

Even though Mike had given a "reason," Harry wasn't exactly buying it. He had a feeling that Mike very much did want a relationship with Ron, maybe he had even asked, but Ron was the one who had denied him.

And if that was the case…Ron didn't break up Michael Corner and Cho Chang. Potentially.

"Mike," Harry said after a few minutes, "Do you think Ernie pushed him?"

Mike sighed heavily. Then he pushed forward on his knees and stood. He walked over to the doors and looked through the small, dirty window. Harry stood as well, and waited for the Ravenclaw's response.

Eventually, Mike turned to face him and pushed his hands into his back pockets and shrugged in a way that was very Ron-like.

"Yeah," he said with an exhale, nodding, "I think he pushed him."