In sickness and in health

His vow to himself allowed him to be right by Harry’s side when he (finally) broke down about Umbridge’s detentions.

He had come back from a particularly long one and in response, he had blown up at Ron and Hermione and had quickly left for their dorm afterwards. Ron had told Hermione that he’d handle it and had quickly walked up to their room, skipping one out of two stairs.

All of their other roommates were asleep, their curtains shining with the magic of a silencing spell, something they had started to put up at the start of their fourth year if they didn’t want to be woken up by Harry’s nightmares. This meant that Ron and Harry didn’t have to worry about making too much noise.

Ron’s best friend was sitting on the floor, leaning back against his bed. His head was between his knees, bloody hand gripping tightly at his hair, spreading blood around. His whole body seemed to be shaking, much like he was panicking or something.

Ron walked quickly to the bathroom, wetting a soft washcloth to wash Harry’s hand with.

He quietly sat next to his friend, leaning back on the bed as well. He took Harry’s left hand in his right one, his friend flinching, and gently started to wipe off all the blood, careful not to touch the wound directly. When all the blood was washed up, he refolded the washcloth so that the part that wasn’t bloody was on top, pressing it tightly to the wound so that the bleeding stopped. Once it slowed down, Ron took the washcloth off and put it on the floor on the left side of him.

Harry’s hand clutched his, his shoulders still shaking but his breathing calming down. Ron tilted his head back, resting it on the mattress, his eyes closing. He knew that in times like this, it was better to just sit in silence with his best friend instead of trying to talk to him. It’s not like he’d hear you, it was better to just wait until Harry calmed down. Ron was kind of glad too, it meant that he didn’t have to try and comfort his friend with his less than stellar emotional range. He much preferred to just be physically there for his friends.

So that’s what Ron did.

After a while, Harry’s breathing had slowed considerably and his head rested on Ron’s right shoulder. Ron had laid his head on top of his friend’s and he waited to see if Harry would talk or not, but then he realised that he was asleep. 

Oh.

He hadn’t thought that Harry would’ve been comfortable enough to fall asleep on him, right there in the middle of the room where he was vulnerable. It kind of made Ron happy. It meant that Harry knew he was safe with him and that he knew that Ron would be there to protect him if something was to happen.

Just the thought made the redhead’s heart start to beat a bit faster and a smile started creeping on his face. He would come back to that later, though. Right now, he should get Harry to bed. It was late and they had class the next day.

He gently lifted his head off Harry’s and pushed Harry’s head off of his shoulder. He let go of his friend’s hand, who frowned in his sleep. Standing up and stretching, he crouched back down to pick up his less than heavy friend. He smoothly placed his friend on his bed and pulled down the covers from under him. Walking quietly to the bathroom, he came back with bandages in hand and gently slathered Harry’s hand with the Essence of Murtlap cream that was in his friend’s nightstand. He wrapped the bandages not too tightly around his hand.

Taking off Harry’s shoes, he transfigured his clothes into soft pyjamas before tugging the blankets back up on his friend’s body this time. He took off his glasses and put them on the nightstand on the other side of Harry’s bed, having to lean over his friend to reach it.

Harry, who had been awoken by all the movement, rapidly shot out his hand to grab at Ron’s shirt.

Ron stopped in his movement and looked down at Harry’s sleepy face whose eyes were squinted, trying to see his friend who was standing over him. Ron looked down at him questioningly.

Harry visibly swallowed. “Stay? Please?”

Ron cleared his throat, surprised by the request but not displeased. His heart beat faster. He squeezed Harry’s hand, who was still clutching his shirt, before both of them let go, Harry’s hand falling back down on the mattress and Ron’s hand nervously running through his hair.

“Sure. Move over.”

And with that, Ron —who had already been ready for bed before Harry showed up from his detention— was laying down in the same bed as his best friend. Both of them were kind of tense; they had never slept in the same bed before so they didn’t know how to act. 

With an unspoken agreement, they turned on their side, laying face to face. Ron could feel Harry’s breath on his face and he shivered, cheeks taking a pink tinge. 

“Are you okay?” he asked his best friend.

“No, but I’ll be okay. Thanks for staying.” 

Ron shrugged, “It’s no problem, that’s what friends do.”

“Then I’m glad we’re friends.” Harry responded, his hand laying between their bodies.

Ron only smiled at him, thoughts swirling in his head. Was Harry’s hand only laying there or was it an invitation to take it? And why did Ron even want to take it in his? Why was Ron thinking about this? That was his best friend he was thinking about! And he was a boy! 

Not that wizards thought it strange for people to be gay but Ron hadn’t ever thought that he liked boys! And what did he mean by that? When did he start thinking that he liked Harry or even boys?! 

He exhaled nervously, Harry watching him with concern. 

He hurriedly told him goodnight before turning his back to his friend before he thought more about how different he looked without his glasses and how if Ron had wanted, it wouldn’t have taken much for their lips to touch. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly, forcing himself to go to sleep even if his mind was stuck on other things.

On the other side of the bed, Harry confusedly turned his back towards Ron and tried to go to sleep, hand still throbbing.

. . . . . ╰──╮IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH ╭──╯ . . . . .

When Ron woke up the next morning, it was to heat. He felt incredibly warm. 

And there was something on him.

Tensing up, he opened one eye, and then the other.

Oh.

Harry was laying on him, his head on his chest and one of his legs over Ron’s hip. He was clutching tightly at Ron’s middle. And Ron was hugging him back. Oh.

Ron didn’t know what to do. On one hand, he didn’t want to wake Harry up since he had gone to bed so late last night, but on the other hand, he was going to have to go to the bathroom one day.

However, he knew that wouldn’t be for a while. He relaxed and closed back his eyes.  

His brain slowly woke up, thinking back on last night’s fiasco. And on the thoughts that Ron had just before going to bed. Like kissing his guybest friend. He still didn’t know where that had come from. 

The idea swirled around his mind and he was surprised that he wasn’t as disgusted by the idea as he had thought he would’ve been. His arm tightened around Harry’s waist, bringing the other behind his head. He was surprisingly comfortable despite having a whole other human being laying on top of him. He took a deep breath in, feeling content.

He opened his eyes, and looked down at his sleeping friend. He kind of looked adorable with his face buried in Ron’s shirt and his hair all messed up. A feeling of fondness washed over him.

Impulsively, he buried his face in Harry’s endearingly messy hair and inhaled deeply. His hair smelt like the shampoo they shared. Because Harry never had to buy himself shampoo before Hogwarts, he had shared Ron’s cinnamon scented shampoo for their first year with said owner’s permission. Since then, Harry bought them shampoo and insisted that Ron use it too. He often argued that it wasn’t pity since he used it as well. Ron didn’t mind anyways since that meant that technically, Harry smelled like him.

And where did that thought come from? Since when did Ron like that Harry smelled like him?

Ron’s dilemma was interrupted by Harry stirring. He gave a squeeze to Ron’s middle before seemingly realising that it wasn’t a pillow that he was clutching, but in fact his best friend. He tensed up.

Ron gave him a squeeze in return to reassure him.

“Good morning.” Ron said, voice muffled from Harry’s hair.

“Morning.” Harry answered, voice raspy from both having just woken up and his breakdown last night. Ron shivered as he felt his chest vibrate under Harry’s from his talking. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, Harry’s hair ruffling from his breath.

“Hey, that tickles!” Harry squeaked, burying his face further in Ron’s chest, trying to escape him.

Ron’s head fell back on the pillow as he chuckled, chest rumbling from laughter. It was Harry’s turn to shiver.

“Sorry,” Ron said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Right, since you’re awake, I’m going to the bathroom.” Ron detangled himself from Harry who rolled on his back. He quickly stood up from the bed and pulled the cover backs on Harry, tucking him back in like he didn’t need to get up too. He leaned over his friend and took his glasses from the nightstand, putting them on Harry’s face as well. He quickly kissed Harry’s forehead as he stood back up, not even realising what he had done. “You should get up soon if we don’t want to be late for breakfast,” Ron said over his shoulder as he walked to the bathroom.

He closed and locked the door as he didn’t want any of the others coming in as he pissed, and then he paused, his hand still on the doorknob. 

What had he just done?