Minimus Whispers

Ron jolted awake in his hospital bed, beads of sweat forming on his forehead due to the warmth seeping in from the window of the Hospital Wing. He blinked his eyes, attempting to regain focus on his surroundings. He tried to sit up, but a slight groan escaped him; the injuries he'd sustained during the match yesterday were still affecting him, despite Madam Pomfrey's healing efforts. He had been thrown a hundred meters away from his broom, managing to grasp its end, yet he ended up spiraling through the air and crashing onto the field.

The curtains that had been keeping him isolated from the outside slid open, and the mediwitch breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing him awake. She advised him to take some rest until breakfast and offered him some sweets to eat, which somehow brought a soothing sensation to him.

When he was finally able to, Madam Pomfrey handed him a vial of Dreamless Potion, instructing him to use it when he experienced a nightmare. To Ron's confusion, he accepted it, then glanced around to ensure no one could overhear them before asking about it.

"You've been tossing and turning in your bed, Mr. Weasley. I had to make sure you were okay, and I'm aware you understand what I mean." Ron's face turned beet red; of course, he knew what she was referring to. Harry hadn't even considered using a silencing charm and was told to keep his noises down, but he couldn't forget how Harry's hand explored every part of his body.

From his neck down to his spine, Harry's touch ventured to places Ron had never considered exploring. In his embarrassment, a loud noise escaped Ron when the Slytherin gripped his cheek, and Harry had even mustered the audacity to give him a warning glare.

"You'd better stay quiet or else," Harry whispered.

Ron attempted to return the glare but ended up crying out shakily when Harry's touch became more intimate.

They only came to a halt as the sound of approaching footsteps reached their ears. Both Ron and Harry stopped what they were doing, and Madam Pomfrey arrived to check on Ron. She noticed Harry vanishing into thin air, heading for the door. Just the recollection of all that had transpired left Ron feeling somewhat dizzy. He didn't noticed Madam Pomfrey repeatedly calling his name, lost in thought.

And it's not as if Ron had admitted he enjoyed the visit. No, he would never admit to that. Harry probably already forgot about the incident and did it out of pity. Yeah, It was just pity. Harry's intentions were only to hurt him and make fun of him. So, none of what had happened was a sign of Harry having any real feelings for him.

Go out with me.

Ron scoffed at that. Go out with him? After everything Harry had done to him, after crossing those boundaries, he couldn't believe it. Harry had kissed and touched him without his—his consent! True, he might have enjoyed it to some extent, but that didn't mean he had agreed!

Shaking off his thoughts angrily, Ron immediately thanked the mediwitch and then departed from the Hospital Wing, clutching the dreamless potion close to his chest.

He safely returned to the common room and what surprised him was the worried expressions of the Quidditch team. Their faces lit up when they saw him in the entrance, alive and well. Some of them visibly exhaled in relief, while others attempted to ask him if he was alright. In response, Ron shook his head and offered an okay sign, signaling that he was fine.

They still circled around him and inquires about the Slytherin's alleged cheating and suggestions for a rematch, Ron felt his nerves getting the better of him and the attentions he was getting. Then, a voice broke through the crowd. They turned to see Cedric, Hufflepuff's Quidditch Seeker, and Ron's heart started to beat differently.

"Don't pressure him. He still needs some rest," Cedric calmly advised, coming to Ron's aid. 

Ron's face blushed slightly, and he gave a weak smile in respond. But then suddenly, reality hit him: this was Cedric Diggory he's talking to—the handsome and the popular seeker of the Hufflepuffs' Quidditch team. Ron had a small crush on him before and well—Cedric was good-looking, kind, and adored by everyone in the house. He's tall stature, perfect black hair, and handsome smile were truly captivating. His features, from his nose to everything else, seemed flawless. Whenever Cedric laughed, it was as if a spotlight was on him, drawing everyone's attention.

"H-hi," Ron stammered out a greeting. Merlin, you're doing great, Ron. Very great.

Cedric grinned at him, white teeth and all. "You speak! I haven't heard you say much, even during our Quidditch practices. I'm glad you're doing okay." 

Ron's head snapped up to him, and he managed to stutter out a quiet "T-thanks!" And ugh, he was stammering again; it was just Cedric Diggory! What's there to get nervous around?

"Go back—" Ron started, glancing nervously behind Cedric's broad shoulder, "Can I go back now—"

Cedric looked confused for a moment, then responded, "Sure, you don't need to ask. I'll see you around then?"

Ron chastised himself mentally for blurting out those words. He had grown accustomed to asking for permission first to excuse himself. He tried to compose himself, nodded, and gave Cedric a final forced smile before hurrying towards the boys' dormitory. His heart raced, and still, he couldn't help but replay the encounter with Cedric in his mind that morning.

Ron felt grateful for not falling behind in his lessons, and he knew that Hermione, his best friend, would always be there to help him catch up if needed. However, no one could prevent the professors from assigning them homework due the next day.

As he sat in the Great Hall for Dinner, Ron couldn't resist sneaking glances at the Slytherin table, hoping to spot Harry, but he wasn't there. Just then, Hermione, who was standing behind him, spoke up.

"What's going on?" She inquired worriedly, turning to see what had captured Ron's attention. "Are you alright, Ron?"

Blinking twice, Ron immediately shook his head, "No, it's nothing..." he muttered, since waking up in the Hospital Wing, he hadn't seen Harry, not that he wanted to see him. But Harry's absence did make him worry. He didn't see Harry during lunch or in any of their classes that they shared with Slytherin. Although no one openly discussed it, Ron could hear whispers among the Slytherins, and he was certain they were talking about Harry. 

Where could he be?

"It didn't look like it was nothing," Hermione observed, and it made Ron to let out a heavy sigh as he absentmindedly twiddling his chicken.

"I haven't seen Harry around..." he admitted hesitantly.

"Oh?" Hermione's response didn't sound amused at all, and Ron nervously fixated on the chicken on his plate, avoiding eye contact with his best friend. "Ron, it's fine. I don't mind if you were concerned about him. I just want you to, well, be cautious, as I've always advised you. I overheard Chang talking about how Harry wasn't in a great mood yesterday, even though they won in Quidditch match."

"Me, concerned? As if," Ron scoffed while poking at his chicken. "It's probably better if he didn't come back. His friends are nothing without him."

It was true that the Slytherin table seemed restless without Harry, and it was evident that they might not even secure the Quidditch cup this year without him. Ron couldn't help feeling angry about it; they just using Harry for their image in front of others, and that just didn't sit right with him. He glanced at the Slytherin table one more time.

"Ron, as I said, I don't really mind. There must be a reason why he was absent today. You should probably talk to him when he turns up." Hermione reassured him.

Ron huffed, saying, "There's no way I'll do it."

"Don't be stubborn. Something must have happened between you two, and that's why you're actling like this."

"I-is a guy not allowed to be concerned about others?" Ron stammered, his face turning pink.

Hermione sighed. "You can, but not with someone like Harry, if it were you. Well, if he shows up, tell me everything. I'll be waiting for you after your second class tomorrow." With that, she walked over to the Ravenclaw table, leaving him.

Ron finished his dinner and quietly enjoyed his dessert that appeared until Dumbledore finally told them to head to bed and a good night. 

However, he couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, clutching the blanket tightly. He desperately tried to push the memories of what had happened in the Hospital Wing out of his mind. Where was Harry, and what was going on? Why this was affecting him so deeply? 

Ron couldn't escape the memory of admitting his feelings for Harry, which had been so embarrassing. It was probably because he truly craved Harry's attention, even though he tried to deny it. The conflicting emotions made it hard for him to accept this. Considering everything that had happened between them, who was he to blame for feeling this way?

Hermione's advice to be careful and cautious resonated with Ron. He couldn't help it—if Harry was only playing with his feelings, then, why go so far as to touch him in such intimate ways? The memory of Harry's warm touch, the way it glided across his chest to his back, had a profound impact on Ron. The way Harry touched him made Ron feel like putty in his hands, and he couldn't stop thinking about it.

The next day, Harry still hadn't returned, and a whole week had passed without Ron seeing him. This left Ron feeling a mixture of anger, disappointment, and somewhat—confusion.

Unbeknownst to Ron, Cedric had been calling his name. As Ron gazed at the ground lost in thought, his head snapped up upon hearing his name, and he noticed his other teammates giggling. Blushing, he quickly gave them an apologetic look.

Their team captain frowned as he repeated what he had said. They had been discussing techniques and tactics and Ron had remained silent, nodding along to whatever they were saying. After the discussion, they took to the skies to put these strategies into practice during their training session.

Ron couldn't help but wonder why they needed to train so rigorously. After all, they had already lost to Slytherin, and there were no upcoming matches. However, their captain insisted on it, explaining that it was his last year at Hogwarts, and he wanted to create lasting memories with his team.

After a tiring training session, Ron quickly changed into his robes. As he was about to head back to the castle, Cedric walked up beside him, which surprised Ron. He gazed at Cedric, wide-eyed, waiting for what he had to say.

Cedric scratched the back of his neck and spoke with an embarrassed tone, "Hey, if you don't mind, I've heard about what those Slytherins did to you. It's better that you're safe when returning to the dorm."

Ron attempted to reassure Cedric that he was fine, but his mouth formed an 'O' instead and his hand fumbled in the air as he struggled to find the right words.

Cedric smiled at him and said, "No need to say anything."

Blushing furiously, Ron huffed and crossed his arms tightly. He could sense Cedric's gaze on the back of his head, which made him bite his lips nervously. However, Cedric maintained some distance between them, and strangely, that made Ron feel relieved.

Upon reaching the common room, Ron quietly thanked Cedric before heading back to the dorm.

Ron initially thought it would be a one-time encounter, but he soon noticed that whenever he was returning to the dungeon alone, Cedric would find him there and accompany him. Their conversations started awkwardly, then transitioned into hesitancy, and gradually became more comfortable as they spent more time together.

Ron couldn't quite understand why Cedric was doing this, but the older guy didn't seem to mind Ron's simple, quiet responses – nods, shakes of the head, or occasional blushing when his emotions got the better of him.

One Saturday, Ron and Hermione had just returned to the castle after a visit to Hogsmeade. They were about to part ways, with Hermione heading back to the common room to rest. However, this time, Cedric appeared with some of his friends from their house, looking like they had also just returned from Hogsmeade.

Cedric waved his hand at Ron, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I'll catch up with you later. You guys go on," Cedric told his friends before walking over to Ron.

"Shall I accompany you again?"

Ron suppressed a smile and replied quietly, "Sure. I don't mind." He knew that even if he had declined, Cedric would have done it anyway. 

Cedric then turned his attention to Hermione. "You must be Hermione Granger from Ravenclaw?"

Hermione blushed slightly. "Well..."

"Nice to meet you. I didn't know Ron here has a girlfriend," Cedric added with a charming smile. Both Hermione and Ron jumped in surprise.

"Oh, no!" Hermione quickly clarified, and Ron vigorously shook his head as if his life depended on it. "We're just best friends."

Ron had noticed how Cedric's shoulders suddenly relaxed. "Oh, is that so? Sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's fine," Hermione cut him off, still taken aback by the misunderstanding.

"But—"

Ron grabbed Cedric's arm and shook his head again. "It's fine," he reiterated. "Come on, let's go. Hermione, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure," Hermione replied. "I'll be at the library until the afternoon."

Ron nodded and bid her farewell. As he and Cedric walked further away from the entrance of Hogwarts, Ron took a shaky breath, feeling a mix of emotions as they continued down the corridor toward the dungeon.

"That must have been a shock for her," Ron said quietly.

Cedric chuckled nervously. "It must have been," he admitted, then took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't mean to jump to conclusions, but you two seem really close."

"Hermione's my first friend here," Ron said, though he knew it was only half true. His first friend had been Harry, but that had ended in betrayal.

"I'm glad you have someone like her," Cedric replied.

"Yeah," Ron said, "She's been with me since the beginning. She's more like a sister than just a best friend, you know? She treats me like her little brother sometimes because she's so protective."

"I can see that," Cedric said with a sigh. "And I'm glad."

Ron finally looked up at Cedric again. It wasn't that Ron was small or anything – Cedric was tall, and they were both quite tall. But Ron felt lanky and very awkward, and his mutism sometimes made him feel smaller, as if everyone was looking down on him. He couldn't quite understand how he had managed to survive his years at Hogwarts.

Neither of them realized they had been staring at each other so closely. It was unclear who leaned forward and initiated it, but suddenly, their lips met. Ron closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, savoring the soft and gentle nature of Cedric's kisses. It was a stark contrast to Harry's more intense and passionate style. 

Cedric's lips caressed his without any biting or hands wandering to other parts of his body. Ron just stood there, humming contently as he enjoyed the sheer gentleness of it.

But Ron suddenly had the unsettling feeling that they were being watched. He was familiar with the sensation of being observed, having lived with anxiety and endured bullying and taunts from the Slytherins.

Ron attempted to ignore the feeling, thinking it might be his imagination. As he had parted his lips for Cedric, the sensation of those unseen familiar eyes intensified, and he felt a surge of anger.

Give yourself to me, Ron.

Ron's eyes then suddenly snapped open. Flashes of Harry - memories of the Hospital Wing, the way Harry had asked him out, and how Ron had surrendered his body and emotions to him.

Cedric touched Ron's cheek gently, but Ron gasped and leaned away, immediately pushing him back.

"Ron?"

"I-I'm sorry!" Ron squeaked. "I just—"

"Ron, hey. Hey, it's okay, it's just me."

And that was the problem; it was Cedric. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, really—I gotta go—"

"Ron! Wait—"

Ron hastily retreated from the situation, feeling overwhelmed by his own emotions and everything. Ron dashed to another corridor, tears welling up in his eyes, feeling an urgent need for Hermione, his best friend. He had just turned the corner into another corridor when he felt a strong hand grip his arm tightly.

Ron initially thought it was Cedric and was about to tell him to let go, but he was abruptly pushed inside an unused small classroom and was shoved against the wall with such force that he let out a loud groan of pain.

Ron found himself in a small, dimly lit classroom, filled with shelves and empty potion vials. There was a battered table in the room, and the only source of light was filtering in from outside. The pain was overwhelming, making it difficult for him to look up at his assailant. However, he didn't need to see the person's face to recognize those familiar green eyes.

Those green eyes held nothing but anger, lust, and jealousy he had seen before.

"It's only been a week, Weasley," Harry sneered. "You couldn't control yourself from letting others touch you, eh?"

A hand gripped his hair, forcing Ron to look up and meet the eyes of the person he had longed to see, the person he had yearned to be touched by but had refrained because of fear and confusion. It was the person who had left him after saying those words.

Ron braced himself for anything but Harry simply pinned him in the wall instead and loomed over him. "You're disgusting. I bet if I shagged you here and told everyone about it, even Diggory would see how disgusting you really are." He spat out, his words dripping with contempt.

Ron glared up at Harry, wiping away his tears that threatens to come out.

"Go ahead, cry," Harry taunted as he crouched down and took hold of Ron's chin with his fingers. "Is that what you always do?"

Ron forcefully smacked Harry's hand away. "Don't touch me," he said, his voice weak and trembling, more like a whisper. 

Harry licked his lips, his fingers trailing toward Ron's shoulder. The touch made the redhead tense up.

"Come on, loosen up," Harry urged. "Just imagine I'm Diggory, yeah? You seem like you want him more than me right now?"

"N-no," Ron stammered, shaking his head and looking down. He didn't want any of this.

"Don't be shy," Harry cooed, swatting the hair that was covering Ron's eyes and tucking it behind his ear. "Show me your pretty face. It's been really a long week without seeing you, yeah? Do you know what happened, Ron?" Harry whispered. "I had to bear the pain I received when those bastards tried to snatch me up and present me to Voldemort."

Harry's finger slid down to Ron's temple, then to his cheekbone, and finally, to his lips. "Had to kill his people by myself," he continued, his thumb pressing into Ron's lips, parting them slightly.

Ron's eyes remained wide as he gazed at Harry. He couldn't help but notice how worn out Harry looked, with bags under his eyes and small cuts on his face, including one near his lips, while his hair was disheveled and messy, quite different from his usual self. 

"Fuck," Harry murmured darkly. "That's it."

Ron yelped when Harry grabbed his collar, and he felt those lips on his again. This time, Ron immediately opened his mouth for Harry, his body urging him to surrender, to let Harry use him until he was satisfied and left him there. He felt the other's tongue exploring and sucking, and Ron groaned in response. His hands gripped Harry's arm for balance as the Hufflepuff's hand wrapped around his neck to deepen the kiss. Harry's other hand slid under the back of Ron's thigh and hoisted it above his right leg, mirroring the action with the other leg.

Harry pulled back at the kiss making the redhead whined as his hands found their way to Harry's shoulders for support as he straddled him while the other is standing, wrapping his legs on his waist.

"So eager, are we, hmm? You missed me that much?" Harry teased.

Ron admitted that he did miss Harry. He bit back a moan as Harry leaned down to his neck, inhaling the skin before kissing and nipping it. Harry's hands began to caress Ron's front shirt, unbuttoning it as he returned to kissing him.

"Good boy," Harry hummed during the kiss when he finally unbuttoned Ron's shirt and lowered it to just above his elbow to suck on his chest, down to his hardening nipples. 

"Harry..." Ron moaned, his grip tightening on Harry's shoulder, his mouth hanging open as he breathed quickly. His eyes fluttered shut as Harry licked his left nipple and bit it. "D-did you...hah...put a silencing charm i-in the room—ngh?"

Harry stopped biting his nipple and kissed Ron's neck, then moved to his cheek, nose, and finally to his lips. "Why would I?" he replied, his tongue slipping inside for another passionate kiss.

"Anyone...mphhm..." Ron attempted to pull away from the kiss but he couldn't, "Can hear us," he added.

"So what," Harry responded stubbornly, "I don't care."

"Harry, you can't just let them hear us. What if it was a professor, or worse Snape and—ah!" He yelped as Harry's hand gripped his buttock cheek. "Harry!"

"No," Harry stated darkly, and he captured Ron's mouth once more. Ron whimpered as Harry's hand firmly held his cheek, kneading them.

"They can't..." Ron couldn't even finish his words anymore when Harry's tongue slid on his neck and back to his nipples. He gripped Harry's arm tightly, trembling slightly as he allowed Harry to explore his body. Ron remained on his position, deliberately ignoring Harry's crotch, which was threatening to escape from his pants.

"Harry, please," Ron gasped uncomfortably.

"Why?" Harry started, gripping Ron's waist again and began moving. "Don't you want them to hear your voice?" He whispered.

"N-no," Ron struggled to reply.

"I thought you wanted them to hear," Harry said. "To hear your soft, pleading, and moaning sounds. Don't you want them to appreciate your beautiful voice, or do you only want me?"

"Harry," Ron said in a daze as Harry moved rhythmically against him, gradually, as if trying to draw out the heat between them. Ron could sense it, and it caused him to whimper loudly. He noticed the pace becoming more unpredictable as Harry's hand glided across his cheek and quickened.

Ron was captivated by the intensity in Harry's green eyes, as he allowed him to maintain eye contact as they moved together, and he heard Harry release a deep groan as his eyes closed and began shuddering, surrendering to his climax.

"Fuck," Harry breathed out, burying his face in Ron's neck.

---

Anger.

That's what Harry felt at this moment as he caught his breath, still holding onto Ron, who was now gripping his shoulder for support. He had been absent for a week, driven by a dream of his godfather being held captive in the Ministry. Harry had gone there alone and was ambushed by those wretched Death Eaters. Those bastards had attempted to seize him, only to discover he had been deceived.

In his rage, Harry took down most of them, and afterward, he was left drained, trembling as he stared at his own hand. It was only when he noticed blood on the ground that he realized he had killed them. The rest of the events became a blur, but this overwhelming feeling persisted, especially when he returned to the castle under his invisibility cloak following a heated conversation with Dumbledore.

The conversation had been marked by raised voices and mistrust, with Harry's final response being a defiant 'Fuck you.' to headmaster. 

The fact that his godfather was gone. The only person who truly understood him and cared about him, and a person who understood his fucked life—so he yearned for someone, someone to touch, to have control over, to manipulate. He craved someone who would willing to be held by him, someone who would beg and beg.

Witnessing the sight of the redhead, the one person he desperately wanted to be with at that moment, kissing Cedric Diggory ignited a turbulent mix of arousal and jealousy within Ron. He couldn't tear his eyes away, but eventually, Ron sensed his presence.

Determined to reclaim the redhead, he chased after him, intent on making the boy submit to him once more.

And he did. 

He observed how the Hufflepuff surrendered to him once more, his face flushed from the tips of his ears down to his chest, the dozens of beautiful freckles on his face and shoulders standing out. His eyes were dazed and watery from the intensity of their lust, and his lips were swollen from the passionate kiss they had shared. Harry realized that he was the only person who should witness this intimate beauty.

It was a piece of beauty that Harry would never trade or share with anyone else.

Only his.

His excitement made his arousal surge once more, and Ron must have noticed it, as he gazed at him with those enticing blue eyes again.

Harry hummed and leaned down to kiss the redhead's belly, moving toward his abdomen. He started to unfasten the boy's pants, but as he knelt down, Ron caught his wrist. The Slytherin looked up and noticed Ron biting his lips.

"Ron—"

"No," Ron said, shaking his head. "I don't—"

"It's alright," Harry panted eagerly. "Trust me."

"But," the redhead responded dazedly, confusion evident as he looked down adorably at him, "W-what are you going to do?"

Harry paused, raising an eyebrow in response. Ron stared at him for a few seconds, then his blue eyes widened as he finally understood what Harry meant. His breath hitched, and he pushed Harry's face away, causing him to stumble backward but he quickly regained his balance.

"That's dirty! No!" he hissed lowly, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears down to his chest, highlighting his numerous adorable freckles. Harry's stomach suddenly churned fiercely at the realization that Ron was unaware of his intentions, and the description of it as dirty heightened the vulnerability. A growl escaped from him as he gripped the Hufflepuff's hips to steady him.

Harry then felt hands on his shoulders as the redhead emitted a sharp cry when Harry removed the last piece of clothing from the Hufflepuff. 

Ron's partially erect pink shaft sprang out. While not as large and lengthy as expected, it possessed more girth that him, though, Harry, without giving the Hufflepuff a moment to breathe, firmly grasped it, prompting a loud cry from the redhead. As he pumped it slowly, feeling the skin on his hand, Ron's hands pulled away from his shoulders before Harry then kissed the head and looked up to watch the redhead's expression.

Ron kept his head lowered, eyes tightly shut, and his trembling hands covered his mouth to muffle his voice but a distinct chatter suddenly emerged in their ears, growing louder as footsteps approached from outside the door. Harry then clicked his tongue and grabbed the cloak from the floor nearby, quickly veiling them both with it.

The door didn't slam open, nor did the footsteps cease in front of the door outside. Harry listened tensely, his eyes darting towards the door. It's not that he minded if they were seen in that state; Harry had been interrupted many times, especially when he was with Pansy. There were a few instances when they almost got caught in compromising situations, like nearly being discovered in the Prefect's bathroom.

Harry then felt arms wrap around him, a forehead resting on his shoulder, a strand of red hair obscuring his nose and eyes, while the footsteps gradually faded away.

"I-I don't want that," Ron sniffled quietly. 

Harry wanted to say he didn't care, that he still wanted to proceed, with or without Ron's consent. However, seeing the redhead in this vulnerable state, trying to find comfort, left him frozen. His heart softened a bit, and fuck, it felt so wrong—completely wrong. He was supposed to be angry, angry at himself for not being able to save his grandfather, angry at Dumbledore for using him, angry about everything.

Angry at seeing Ron with someone else while he was away...

Harry didn't realize tears streaming down from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, accompanied by a shaky weak chuckle.

"It's okay," Ron whispered.

Harry closed his eyes, withdrew from the hug, and shook his head. "No," he started, "No, you don't understand, I—"

He then gestured weakly between them and let out a weak laugh, "I did worse, huh?"

Ron stared at him, silent in response, and Harry didn't expect him to speak. Trying to blink back stubborn tears, a gentle finger suddenly moved up towards his cheeks and wiped them away for him, and blue eyes met green.

"I-I don't know where you've been for a week," Ron began quietly. "Something must have happened, but, Harry, I—I want to know more about you."

Harry stared at him as Ron looked at him shyly. "I know you're mean and all, b-but there must be a reason, right? You're still my first friend, and I want to understand you. I..." He clenched and unclenched his fist, then looked away. "I wanna go out with you."

Harry closed his mouth, and for a moment, he began chuckling, which transformed into laughter.

"Harry?" Ron said worriedly.

Harry wanted to just—sob, but he couldn't. The person he had hurt before, the first friend he had betrayed, was standing there, willing to still be with him. Ron still looked at him with desire and willingness, even though Harry had been the person Ron hated when they were eleven. 

So, he pulled Ron's neck towards him and captured his lips, "You don't know what you're talking about," Harry said between kisses and bites, "but I'll show you." He added, somewhat contented, as he felt the Hufflepuff melted below him. 

They didn't really say anything, and Harry knew Ron appreciated the silence. The Hufflepuff let him remove his remaining clothes, as they moved toward the battered table.

Fingers dug into his back, likely leaving marks, but Harry was too immersed in chasing their own release. Time seemed blurry and too fast, but Harry held strong. He let out what he had been bottling up to the person who trusted him, to someone who still wanted to know him.

Not because of his fame or being a Slytherin, but for who he really is. For who Harry is.

"Harry!" Ron cried for the last time, burying his face in Harry's sweaty neck.

Both of them collapsed onto each other, but it didn't stop Harry from kissing him again. He didn't want to let go yet.

He didn't want to.

Not when Ron was willing to stay.

He had never felt the desire to break something and piece it together, only to do the same thing again and again, observing how they struggled yet still beg to him—why he wanted to see how far he could get from Ron.

How far he was willing to be with him.

How far both of them could go like this when Ron closed his eyes in exhaustion, content and—so beautiful yet fragile and ready to be broken by him.

Did Harry want to break him?

Yes.

He would take it slowly. Slowly, until he broke. Because that's what a Slytherin does, right? They were ambitious; they would achieve their desires with patience until they're satisfied and discard them when they get bored.

"What about a date in Hogsmeade this Saturday?" Harry asked as he watched the redhead snuggle against him. They really needed to get back now, but they were too tired to move.

Ron looked at him sleepily, "I don't know..."

Harry snorted, "You don't know?"

The redhead flushed a little, "Well... I can't just go without Hermione."

"What about the muggleborn?" Harry inquired.

Ron winced slightly at the term, "She's my best friend; she won't let me go alone. Because, you know... Slytherins."

Ah, right. Harry needed to work with that. He observed Ron's face shift to wariness and hesitation, so he sighed and kissed his nose.

"Just write me then," Harry suggested.

"I'll try," Ron replied. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Harry said, "I've been mean to you, and I wanted to be better." 

Liar.

"Oh," Ron said softly. "Uhm..."

Harry smiled at him sweetly, "So?"

"S-sure."