Day Twenty-Two
“You sure you don’t need help with those Dizzy?”
“Dizzy is sure!”
“Alright,” he laughs, returning to figuring out how to use the new coffee machine. He had gotten up early to cook breakfast only to find a very happy Dizzy breaking into the new pancake mix he’d bought. He hears a shuffle and turns to see Ron groggily walking in. “Morning!”
Ron shuffles over and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, burrowing his face in his shoulder. “How are you so cheery?”
Harry shrugs. “I dunno, I just feel cheery today. You okay?”
“Tired,” he mumbles.
“Aw, poor baby, did we wear you out?” he teases.
“No!” he says defensively. “Just… it was a long day,”
He spins around so he’s leaning against the counter, taking a good look at Ron’s face before letting him cuddle up again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“‘M fine,”
“Ron,”
“Harry,” he bites back.
He clicks his tongue at him and sighs, turning back to his task. He makes them both a mug, hoping it will entice his boyfriend to talk.
“Thanks,” Ron mumbles, taking the offered mug and sipping at it.
“You had a panic attack while we were gone, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Ron, you have to talk to me. Imagine if I kept all my stuff bottled up. You’d be livid,”
Ron shuffles from side to side, looking sheepish. “I know I just… it’s hard for me, you know? Emotional range of a teaspoon?”
Harry winces at the words. “Baby, you know that’s not true,”
“It is!”
“You have too many emotions, actually,” Harry persists. “That’s why you get all worked up. You feel stuff too big,”
“Well, that’s even worse,” he mumbles. “I’m fine, really,”
“Pancakes are ready!” Dizzy squeaks.
Harry sighs in defeat. “Alright, fine. Let’s just eat, yeah? Is Mi still asleep?”
“Yeah, she didn’t even budge. I’m glad… I don’t think she’s been sleeping very well,”
They sit down at the breakfast table in the corner, looking out over the beautiful backyard. No wonder Dizzy was so good at gardening.
“Wow, these are amazing,” Ron sighs appreciatively. “Thanks, Dizzy!”
“Mister Wheezy is welcome! Dizzy goes now!”
Pop!
They sit in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. Harry can tell Ron has something on his mind but he doesn’t push, just waits.
“Do you want to go flying with me today?” Ron finally asks.
Harry’s surprised. Not what he was expecting. “Sure, love. I mean, I’ll try at least. Walking around yesterday tired me out a bit,”
“Okay,” he nods. “Lunch time? Maybe we could… I dunno make a date of it… or not that’s dumb,”
Harry takes his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “It’s a date,”
Ron relaxes. “Good, I-”
He’s interrupted by a large yawn, and they turn to see Hermione standing in the doorway. “I smell pancakes,”
They both grin wildly at the sight of her. “Hi baby,” Harry calls, holding out an arm for her. She blushes but walks over, and he pulls her into his lap and kisses her cheek. “You sleep good?”
“Mhmm,” she nods, leaning over to kiss Ron as well. “You could’ve woken me up,”
“You were too cute,” Ron protests. “Couldn’t do it,”
She rolls her eyes and swipes his fork, stealing a bite of his pancakes.
“Oi!” he laughs. “Those are mine,”
“And you can share,” she retorts, as she pointedly steals another bite. “You two wore me out. I’m curling up in the library with my new pile of books and not coming out til supper,”
Harry laughs and pries the fork from her hands, handing it back to Ron. “I’ll make you a plate,” he says, scooting her onto the bench between them.
“Ever the peacemaker,” she teases, kissing his cheek. “Thank you,”
✦✦✦✦✦
Harry would never get sick of flying. Getting on his broom again had been mildly nerve-racking due to his last experience on one, but the prospect of being in the air again was too good.
“You’re such a show-off!” Ron calls, laughing as he does a loop in the air. Harry pulls up next to him, grinning wildly.
“If you can’t handle it, Weasley, don’t take me flying!”
“And miss a chance to see how hot you look on a broom? Never,”
Harry feels his face flush and flies away again before Ron can realize. They do a few laps around the property, spotting a few places that look fit to explore before landing in a grove of trees just off the back garden, where a small stream crosses the landscape.
“Look at you with a picnic and everything,” Harry says, surprised when Ron pulls a shrunk basket out of his pocket.
“Dizzy might’ve helped,” he mumbles.
They settle down on the creek bank, dipping their toes in the water while munching on sandwiches, a soft breeze blowing through.
“What was it like… using the stone? Seeing your parents?”
Harry pauses, unsure where this is coming from. “In the moment, it felt good, like they were walking beside me. But they didn’t feel real, either,”
Ron nods, looking disappointed. “George is… not doing good. I thought maybe-”
“I don’t think it would help,” Harry sighs. “They brought me comfort because I thought I was going to… to join them, you know? And I didn’t want to be alone. But George? I think it would hurt too much,”
“Do you think it was actually them? Or just in your mind?”
“I think… I think it was both,”
“Both?”
“When I was… you know… I asked Dumbledore if it was real or all in my head. And he told me that just because it was in my mind doesn’t mean it’s not real. I think it was actually them, even if it was just the versions of them that live in my head,”
“I see,”
“I’m sorry,”
“Still not allowed,” Ron jokes, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s alright, really. I figured even if you thought it would help, that it should probably stay where it is,”
“Probably,” He hesitates and then adds, “Is George the only one not doing good?”
“Well, mum’s a bit-”
“Ron,”
He sighs in defeat. “I was okay until yesterday. When I’m with you and Hermione, things don’t feel so bad. But being at home with just my family? It was… it was awful, Harry. It felt like I had abandoned you both all over again, and Mum was in a right state because of Charlie. Then, I came home expecting you’d be back, and you weren’t, so I was alone, and I just-” he lets out a deep exhale. “It was all too much,”
“I can imagine,”
“I don’t know how you do it,” Ron grimaces. “Living with all that grief and stress,”
“Well, having a pretty great boyfriend helps,”
Ron laughs half-heartedly, wrapping their hands together. “I’m worried about Hermione, too,”
“Why?”
“Hadn’t you noticed? She hasn’t said a word about her parents,”
Harry feels a wash of guilt run through him. “No, I hadn’t,”
Ron shrugs. “She never talked about what happened much to begin with, but I assumed she’d have been jumping to go fix it,”
“Is it fixable?”
“I- I don’t know, I assumed so,”
“She wouldn’t-” Harry sighs. “She doesn’t like talking about it with me because she doesn’t want me to feel guilty. I think if she had had the choice… she never would have told me about it at all. So… so I assumed she had at least talked about it with you,”
“Not a word,”
He sighs. “You should talk to her about it. Just the two of you,”
“What? No, we can-”
“No, no,” he says quickly. “I really think it’s a her and you conversation. Plus, we did something together, alone, and now you and I are. You two should do the same,”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he smiles. “I mean, if she needs my help or wants to talk about it with me, she can. I’m always here, but… I really think it’ll be better if it’s just you,”
Ron sighs and nods. “Alright… I’ll figure something out,”
He hums and leans against Ron’s side. “I love you,”
He laughs softly, laying his cheek against the top of Harry’s head. “I love you too,”
“Do you remember the first time you ever said that to me?” he asks softly. “Just as friends in first year,”
Ron snorts. “Yeah, you chucked that thing at my head, and I told you that you were lucky I loved you, or I’d chuck it back,”
“It was a chocolate frog, and you asked me to toss it to you!”
“I didn’t mean at my head! And then you started crying because you were so overwhelmed, and I didn’t have a clue what was going on!”
Harry laughs. “You were hovering around me all panicked,”
Ron sighs in playful annoyance and kisses the top of his head. “I’ve done a lot of that over the years. Why are you bringing that up anyway?”
“Just… imagine if we could go back and tell ourselves in that moment that we’d end up here,”
“We wouldn’t have believed it,” Ron snorts.
“No… I think it would have made me really happy,”
Ron goes quiet. The kind of melancholy quiet that comes from the remainder of his childhood. This time, he doesn’t press further. Instead, he bends down and kisses him properly. “I think it would have made me happy too,”
Harry yanks him back in for another kiss because he can. He can do that now, and he’ll never get sick of it. Ron indulges him, kissing him harder until suddenly Harry is on his back, staring up at blue sky and the man he loves. Hands slide into hair, tugging to get closer. There’s a new level of heat between them after last night, leaving Harry desperate and wanting.
“We should-” he murmurs between kisses. “Go up- to the house,”
Ron tugs at his bottom lip teasingly. “And why would we do that, baby?”
“Ron,” he complains.
“There’s no one out here,” he whispers, kissing his way up Harry’s jaw. “It’s just us, sweetheart,”
All rational thought goes out the window as Ron sucks on a spot behind his ear. So he tilts his head to the side, giving his boyfriend better access, and slides his hand under his shirt hem to get to the bare skin he’s craving. One of Ron’s hands slides under his own shirt, and he shivers in pleasure at the contact.
“I’ll never get sick of this,” Ron says into his skin. “The way you just melt under me,”
“I thought-” he laughs. “I thought I was the top,”
“Can’t I like both?” he murmurs. “I know you need a safe place to land sometimes, baby. We’ve been telling you for years that you don’t always have to be so tough,”
“Oh,” he says softly. Ron kisses him properly again, and he feels the ground give way beneath his head a little. He’s going to be covered in dirt when this is over, and he can’t even remember why he should care. He’s not even sure he wants it to go anywhere more than this, content to surrender to the warmth of Ron’s body and the pressure of kisses.
But then Ron startles, looking up at something. Harry turns to see Hermione’s patronus coming towards them, a silver otter swimming through the wind. They both scramble to their feet instantly.
“Everything is fine,” Hermione’s voice says. “But Kingsley is here. You need to come back up,”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Harry mutters.
“Come on,” Ron says gently, taking his hand. “I’m sure it’s just another speech or something,”
It only takes them a couple of minutes to get back up to the house. Hermione is waiting for them at the back door, wringing her hands nervously. “He’s in the library,” she says as they stamp the dirt from their shoes. “He’s brought someone with him. Robards?”
“Shit,” Harry sighs. “I think that’s the head of the auror department. I’ll go take care of it,”
Ron makes a noise, but he’s already crossing the house to the library. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, not bothering to make his face into something pleasant.
“Ah! And there’s the man of the hour,” Kingsley says warmly.
“Hello,” Harry says cooly, eyeing the other wizard. “You didn’t owl?”
“I did, but it must have gone to The Burrow. We stopped by there first, you know,”
“Uh huh,” Harry mutters unconvinced. “And this is?”
“Gawain Robards,” the man steps forward to shake Harry’s hand. “Head of the Auror department,”
As suspected. Harry raises an eyebrow at Kingsley but is polite enough to shake the man’s hand.
“He’s clear,” Kingsley assures him. “One of my best people in the ministry during the takeover,”
“Uh huh… Well? I assume you need something from me,”
“Uh, that would be my fault,” Robards explains. “I’m afraid I’ve been trying to contact you for several weeks now,”
“I’m aware,”
This catches the man off guard. “Right, well I must have missed your response then,”
“I didn’t send one,”
“Oh,”
“Gawain here wanted to speak to you and Ron about joining the Auror program,” Kingsley explains.
“We haven’t finished our NEWTS,”
“We’re waiving the requirement for anyone who fought in the battle. It may be a bit early, but we lost a lot of good people, and we have many a death eater to catch still,”
Harry laughs in disbelief. “It hasn’t even been a month,”
“Well-”
“No, I mean, really? Really? I can’t speak for Ron, but I know I am nowhere ready to jump back into fighting,” Harry says angrily. “I can barely fly on a broom for an hour, and you expect me to take down more death eaters?”
“Well, we can wait until-”
“I don’t even know if I want to be an Auror anymore,”
Robards stares at him like he’s grown another head. Kingsley looks equally surprised.
“But what- what will you do?” Robards asks.
Harry shrugs. “I don’t really think that’s your business now, is it?”
Robard's face turns red with anger, and Kingsley rolls his eyes. “Harry, be reasonable,”
“No, you be reasonable, Kingsley,” he growls. “There are about fifty other things you could have asked me about today that I probably would have agreed to. But instead, you're trying to push me into doing the very thing I’m still recovering from. Is this really what you’ve been working on? The only thing?”
“Well, no, of course, not the only thing,”
“Then what else?”
“Well, we’ve been preparing for the trials and filtering out all the ministry members. It’s a very time-consuming process, you know, Harry,”
“And what about everyone else?” he asks. “What are you doing for the people who have lost everything?”
Silence.
“I told people I trusted you to heal the cracks,” Harry seethes. “That means more than throwing people in Azkaban. I want to help Kingsley. I do. But you’re asking me all the wrong things,”
Kingsley clears his throat. “Is Ron available then?”
He bites back his rage and storms over to the door, swinging it open. Unsurprisingly, Ron and Hermione are sitting on the stairs, trying to listen. “For you,” he mutters, nodding his head towards the library.
Ron looks nervous but heads into the room, shutting the door behind him. Harry collapses on the stairs, and Hermione wraps her arm around him.
“You okay?”
“Fine,”
She looks unconvinced but lets him be, instead tracing soothing circles across his back. It only takes a moment for a much happier pair of men to come out of the library, Ron casting Harry nervous glances as he shows them out the door.
“So you said yes then,” Harry says darkly once they’re alone.
“I… I did,”
“Right,” he growls, pushing himself to his feet and storming away.
“Harry, wait!” Ron calls, following him into the kitchen. “Can we just talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he mutters, angrily pulling things from the cupboards.
“Harry, please,”
“What? What do you want me to say, Ron?” he shouts, slamming a bowl down on the counter. “That I’m happy you’re going to be back in danger? That I’m excited for you that you're doing the one thing I didn’t think any of us wanted to do anymore? Or how about that I’m thrilled you're going to be chasing down the people that for the last year have been hunting you down?”
“No, of course not,”
“Then what? What do you want me to say?”
“I just- I want to do something with my life that means something,” Ron says, his eyes brimming with tears. “And I’m not good at school like you and Hermione, so if they’re going to give me a chance, then I’m taking it,”
“You’re not ready!” Harry says desperately. “We just had a whole conversation about why you had a panic attack yesterday! What happens if you’re fighting death eaters and you lose it? I can’t- I can’t,” he sucks in a deep breath, trying to slow the spiral he’s surely heading towards. “I can’t lose you too,”
“You’re not going to lose me,” Ron says softly.
He looks at Hermione, who’s watching them in quiet contemplation. “Surely you can’t be happy about this?”
“No, but I see Ron’s point,” she whispers.
He sighs in exasperation and returns to rummaging around the kitchen, angrily pulling things out of drawers.
“Um, what are you doing?” Hermione asks hesitantly.
“Stress baking,”
“So that’s it?” Ron asks angrily. “We’re just leaving it at that? You shout at me and then we leave you alone to bake?”
“Course not,” Harry mutters. “I shout at you, then I bake you ‘congratulations on your new job even though I’m really cross with you’ cookies, and then we eat them,”
It takes a minute to process, but understanding crosses Ron’s face, and he grins at him wildly. He bounds across the kitchen and kisses Harry, who bites his lip lightly in retaliation.
“You’re sure?” Ron asks, his eyes scanning Harry nervously.
“No, I’m not,” he grumbles. “I’m pissed off and really, really worried about you doing this. But-”
“But?”
“I’m tired of fighting, and I definitely don’t want to fight with you. I also know this is what you’ve always wanted, and… Semper Ad Meliora, you know? If this, if you think this is your better?”
“I really do,” Ron says confidently. “I think I need something to do. You’re, you know, you, and we both know Hermione is going to take over the ministry in a few years-”
“What- I am not!”
“-and this is something I can do. Something I might even be good at, you know? I feel really good about it,”
He takes a shaky breath. “I’m probably… it’s going to take me some time to be totally on board. So if you can put up with my worrying and my grumbling then… then I’ll do my best,”
He sighs in relief, pulling Harry into a tight hug.
Harry turns towards Hermione. “It’s your say to love,”
She bites her lips, thinking. “I actually think it will be good for you, Ron. I mean, I’m worried about it, obviously, but I feel the same. If this is what you want, then I’m for it,”
Ron relaxes. “You two are the best,”
“Though,” she adds, chuckling. “I might be a tad more worried about the danger you’ll be in when you tell your mum,”
“Shit,”