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Ron had a secret.
A deep, dark secret he knew never to share, not with his Gryffindor parents or Gryffindor siblings, not with his Gryffindor best friends, and certainly not with anyone at school, surrounded by all those slimy Slytherins.
And that was that Ronald Bilius Weasley loved snakes.
He liked the way they slithered, how they could move so quickly without limbs. He liked how many interesting and varied colors they came in, the dazzling patterns and stripes and jewel toned scales. And he especially liked that they sometimes ate spiders, which were collectively Ron's mortal enemies for as long as he could remember.
Charlie had given him a big book about creatures with illustrations on his seventh birthday. Ron had flipped to the section on snakes as quickly as he could, learning all about the Ashwinder, the Runespoor, the Sea Serpent and the many other magical snakes all over the world. And it was there in that book that he first learned about Parselmouths.
The idea that he could actually talk with snakes seized young Ron and didn't let go. Wouldn't that be thrilling, chatting it up with all three heads of a Runespoor?
It was a very rare ability, according to the book, and most famously associated with Salazar Slytherin. Ron knew who that was, he had him on a Chocolate Frog card, but he also knew from his family the members of Slytherin house were sneaky and mostly evil. But the Slytherin house couldn't have a monopoly on a whole species, could they? Snakes were so cool and sometimes they were huge, and magically powerful, and surely you could be a Gryffindor and a Parselmouth too, right?
The next time he saw a little green snake in the garden, he was thankfully alone, so he took a chance. He called out to the snake with a greeting in English, but to no avail. He chased after the snake, and the snake just slithered away faster. He tried making hissing noises, hoping to stumble on the correct sounds, but he obviously wasn't saying anything in the snake's language.
Disappointed, he watched the snake slither out of sight and thought about how best to approach it when the opportunity next arose.
Fred and George had caught him at one of his later attempts and assumed he was simply teasing it.
"Oh, little Ronniekins," George had said. "Plenty of time to run off slimy little snakes once you get to school."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked. Fred and George would be going to Hogwarts next year and spent most of their time teasing Ron and Ginny about how they weren’t old enough to go yet.
"The Slytherins!" Fred said. "It's lions all the way down for Weasleys, and Slytherins and Gryffindors just don't get along."
Ron was about to ask why, but then George said something that chilled him to the bone.
"Besides, You-Know-Who was such a Slytherin, they say he could talk to snakes."
Ron went white. Mum and Dad wouldn't talk about You-Know-Who, but he knew that anything about him was very, very bad. Was he really a parselmouth? If he was, Ron didn't want anything to do with snakes anymore. He didn't even want to pretend to talk to them.
And that was the way it was for a while. Ron taught himself not to like snakes anymore, not to think about snakes, not to try hissing at every snake he came across. Ronald Bilius Weasley now hated snakes, and also Slytherins, and definitely also Parselmouths.
All up until something very interesting happened in his second year of school.
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"Why didn't you tell me you were a Parselmouth?" Ron asked Harry, exploding with excitement.
"A what?" Harry asked, bewildered.
Ron couldn't believe it. He finally met a real life Parselmouth, and it happened to be his very best mate, and Harry doesn't even know what he is.
He explained, and so did Hermione, who of course knows about that because she knows everything, and Harry didn't seem very pleased about it all. Especially after all that Chamber of Secrets business. And Malfoy not shutting his stupid face about "enemies of the heir" and Muggleborns.
Ron knew the whispers going around the school, about Harry being the heir of Slytherin, but Harry is the most Gryffindor person he's ever met, and of course he doesn't have a problem about Muggleborns, so he's certainly not evil. He's Ron's best friend, and he just happened to have a very rare and interesting ability, and, Ron decided, there's nothing wrong with that.
Harry didn't seem to agree though, because one night when they're whispering in the dormitory, the other boys long asleep, Harry hesitated when Ron asks him to say something in snake.
"You sure it's not, I don't know, too weird?" Harry asked him.
"Why, just because everyone else can't do it?"
"I thought maybe it was a wizard thing, but it's not. You don't think I'm…," Harry paused for a moment, then finishes with a whisper so quiet Ron can barely hear it, "a freak?"
"Not at all," Ron said fiercely. He remembered pouring over his illustrated snake books, keeping an eye out for shiny scales in the garden, dreaming about the brilliant fiery Ashwinders and what they might say to him if only he could understand. "I think it's brilliant. You're brilliant," Ron adds, and Harry smiles.
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The basilisk, despite being objectively a very cool creature, is not the type of snake one wants to meet in the flesh, particularly when it's trying to kill your best friends. Despite all the risk of death, it was rather exciting getting to hear Harry speak to it, and, as he found out later, You-Know-Who himself.
"I was speaking Parseltongue the whole time?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Either that or you were just hissing at the walls, mate. I couldn't hear everything, having to keep track of the mad Professor over there, but it sounded pretty snake-like to me." Now that everything was over and everyone was safe, Ron felt a twinge of jealousy creeping up on him. It hadn't sounded like anything other than hissing to him, try as he might to at least distinguish between different words. "You really can't tell? When you're doing it?"
Harry shook his head. "When I see a snake it sort of just...happens? I've never really cared for snakes, really, so it's not like I'd had much opportunity to go around and ask one for a chat."
The jealousy deepened a bit more, and Ron tried to fight it off. "Yeah," he said noncommittally, for some reason embarrassed about his interest in snakes. "Can you remember what you said before, in the loo? To open it?"
"Yeah, I just said 'open, please'. Huh, I'm not sure if the please was really necessary."
Ron waited patiently, gesturing for him to say it in Parseltongue.
"Oh, um," Harry glanced around the Great Hall, focusing on the Slytherin banner for a moment, and started hissing.
Something like hissss, ska, ah, sss, ka, ah. Ron tried to commit it to memory.
Harry helpfully separated out the sounds for "open" and the sounds for "please" (the last two syllables). Ron almost tried to repeat after him, but didn't want to sound completely stupid, so he just nodded along. "Cool," he said, wishing he could have hissed his reply back.
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And that might have been the end of his fantasy of learning to speak it himself, if not for the fact that Harry talked in his sleep.
Well, not so much talked,per se, as Harry honestly never shut the hell up in his sleep.
Usually it wasn't enough to wake up anyone else, unless it was a nightmare, but if you were already up, or already listening, (and especially if you were in the closest bed like Ron always was), you had front row tickets to the Harry Potter programme.
Sometimes it was utter nonsense, often coherent English, and every once in a while Harry sleep-talked in Parseltongue.
Ron tried to pay attention, tried to hear the different tones and syllables, which was no easy feat considering Harry did a lot of muttering. He was sure he caught "please", and a handful of other words Harry had taught him over the years. Although he still occasionally asked Harry to say something in Parseltongue, just for the fun of it, Harry didn't appear to appreciate the novelty of it. Ron didn't want to admit his fascination with the language, so he usually didn't press.
And after the dream in fifth year, where Harry said it felt like he was You-Know-Who's snake, and Dad had got attacked, Harry didn't want to talk about it at all anymore. After that, the ability to speak to snakes was too tied up with You-Know-Who, and Ron didn't have the heart to inadvertently remind him of the connection.
But still, at home in the summer, whenever he caught the glint of scales through the grass, he couldn't help but try. And one day, in the weeks before sixth year, he tried calling out a hissed greeting, and the snake actually listened.
It paused, turned around and regarded him tentatively, it's black eyes fixed on his.
"Oh! Umm," Ron stopped and stared, forgetting English as well as Parseltongue. He tried the greeting again, and if the snake hissed a response, Ron didn't understand it.
He tried a few other words, although to be perfectly fair, even if he got them right the snake was probably confused as to why he was shouting yes and sleep and red at it.
The snake continued to stare and if a snake's expression could read "annoyance", this one certainly did. Finally, Ron tried the one he'd known the longest, and practiced the most.
Hiss, ska, ah, sss, ka, ah.
The snake looked, Ron imagined, utterly bewildered, but then, it slowly opened its mouth wide.
Ron whooped, and the snake closed its mouth, startled. When no further instructions were forthcoming, the snake departed with a hiss, most likely annoyed at Ron for having wasted it's time shouting at it like a lunatic, but it didn't matter.
He could talk to snakes! Finally!
Well, he could say a couple words at least, and that was pretty bloody brilliant, thank you very much.
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The next time Ron had the opportunity to indulge his fascination, it was decidedly less pleasant.
The locket hung heavy around his neck throughout their "camping trip", and he could tell it was affecting him much more strongly than either Harry or Hermione. It wasn't only the general sense of bad feeling and malaise that accompanied it, if he concentrated he could almost hear it, whispering to him.
And just to throw salt on the wound, it just had to whisper in Parseltongue.
It was especially frustrating because he knew enough to know that he didn't know nearly enough at all, and the irritation and jealousy and anger from that knowledge just added to everything the Dark Magic of the Horcrux was already doing to him. He could make out different words, but not quite what they said, except for perhaps every one in twenty.
The feeling that he was a complete failure in yet another thing on top of everything else quickly became too much to bear. It was so awful it had managed to sway him into abandoning his friends.
Though the less said about that misstep the better.
At least he'd eventually been able to find them again, and best of all, destroy that bloody Horcrux.
It did spark a small bit of joy within him, briefly, that he recognized the Parseltongue for open when Harry spoke it. He noticed that this time, he didn't add "please".
And a few months later, it sparked again, in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty, and much to Hermione's surprise, that he was able to open up the Chamber of Secrets all on his own.
He had decided to go ahead and add the "please" though. After all, it couldn't hurt.
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After the battle of Hogwarts, and in the years that followed, it seems like the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. The so-called "eighth year" at Hogwarts was so different, they were all so grown up and strange, but it felt more like a normal year away at school should feel. Surprisingly uneventful, no more monsters or killers waiting to ambush them. Just exams and classes and time spent with friends.
He did finally confide in Hermione about his snake obsession, now that the anti Slytherin sentiment was no longer nearly so important. As it happened, the slimiest Slytherin of all, Severus Snape himself turned out to be on their side, (well, Harry's side at least) the whole time.
He was begrudgingly grateful that the git had lived though, not least because Harry was so happy about it. Ron didn't understand the sudden fascination he had for the man, and he frankly thought Harry spent a little too much time at his bedside, but Harry could do whatever he liked now, that old Voldie was finally gone, and if that's what he wanted to do then that was that.
But time moved on, Snape left the hospital, Ron joined the Aurors and Hermione started at University.
And Harry just...float, as if he wasn't sure just what to do with himself. Of course he still spent time with them both, but Ron had to admit he often wanted to be alone with Hermione, particularly after getting engaged, and it seemed to put Harry at loose ends.
Ginny and Harry had never got back together after everything, and Ron thought he wasn't quite as broken up about that as he expected him to be. He expected him to start dating again, there were no shortage of witches who were interested in him, but Harry dodged the question whenever he'd brought it up.
And then, one day, it seemed something about Harry had changed, that loneliness that had clung to him had fallen away, there was a brightness to his eyes and a flush to his cheeks.
And, to Ron's frustration, he wouldn't say a bloody thing about it.
One evening, after weeks and weeks of pestering, Hermione delicately suggested that maybe it wasn't a witch that Harry was seeing, but a wizard.
Ron was surprised at the thought, having not considered it before, but more surprised at the implication that Harry might think that made any difference to Ron.
Although his way of hoping to coax out the identity of the mystery wizard could probably have gone better, as Ron's idea of pointing out how attractive the new captain of the Chudley Cannons was and that he wouldn't mind at all if Harry happened to be dating someone like him was met primarily with confusion.
It went on like this for quite some time, Harry evading or dismissing or outright denying what Ron and Hermione were more and more certain was true. He was in love with someone.
And, because strange things always seemed to happen to Ron, he discovered who that person was through, of all things, Parseltongue.
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Harry had helped Ron and Hermione move into their new flat and after too much Firewhiskey had elected to spend the night. They'd sort of fallen into their old routine of sleeping nearby, not even bothering to move to a bedroom but sprawled with pillows and blankets across the living room floor.
Hermione was snoring, Ron was waiting to drift off to sleep, and Harry, of course, was talking.
He heard a sibilant hiss in the muttering and the tone was...odd. Harry sometimes had nightmares, he'd heard him speak in fear, or anger in Parseltongue.
But this was a word or phrase being muttered with a...oh, bloody hell, was that a moan?
Ron bit back an embarrassed laugh. Well, a sexy Parseltongue dream was new. He considered "accidentally" kicking him awake, but the tone changed into something less lewd, more simply happy. Curious. It was just the same word, over again, and it didn't sound familiar.
It was a medium ssss, something, he wasn't sure, sharp and short, than the same ssss at the end.
Sss, er...er ah? Then sss.
Ron frowned. No, that wasn't it. The middle was different, like the word "of". And it was all together with the beginning. That was funny, that sound wasn't really in Parseltongue.
Sss, of, er, sss.
More like, ssev, er sss.
The penny dropped. It wasn't a word, it was a name. A name that Harry very much enjoyed saying, and a name that made him happy.
Severus.
Oh, bloody hell, it was Severus. Severus Snape.
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It wasn't exactly a row in the morning, and despite what Harry might have thought, it wasn't that it was Snape that Ron was upset about, it was that Harry didn't tell him.
"I thought we were friends," Ron said, more frustrated than angry after he had unceremoniously confronted him about the identity of the person Harry definitely was dating. "Best friends?"
All the anger at being put on the spot seemed to drain out of Harry as quick as he'd said that. "We...we are," Harry said softly. "I just didn't, well I didn't think you'd understand."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, looking back and forth between the two of them. Ron suddenly got the impression that this was not news to Hermione and she'd probably guessed it ages ago. Well, bully for her. But Harry still should have told them, and Ron said as much.
"So was I, er...really loud?" Harry asked, not meeting anyone's eyes. All Ron had said is that he'd heard his say Severus' name in his sleep, and in no uncertain tone.
"No. I just listened because you--You hiss it."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "I hiss it?"
"I thought it was Parseltongue, at first."
Harry just tilted his head and waited for further explanation. Hermione nudged him encouragingly, so he sighed, and started to explain. About snakes, and Parseltongue and listening to Harry talk in his sleep. How the interest in it is what piqued Ron's curiosity last night.
"It's just cool," Ron finished finally, more defensively than the situation probably warranted.
"Yeah," Harry said, smiling. "It is."
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At Ron and Hermione's insistence, Harry brings Severus around to dinner the very next day in order to formally introduce him.
Ron wasn't angry, and he had mostly forgiven Harry for all the dishonesty, but of course he was still going to rib him a little bit.
But they were barely in the door when Ron saw they'd brought another guest, a small black snake wound partly around Harry's arm.
Ron cocked his head, and looked at Hermione, who just shrugged, an amused look on her face and a slight smile that suggested she knew more than she let on.
"What's this?" Ron said cautiously.
Harry all but tossed the snake into Severus’ arms and pushed him forward towards Ron. "We brought you someone!" Harry says cheerfully. "It's from Severus, it was his idea."
Ron eyed Severus warily. Judging by how generally uncomfortable Severus seemed to be, he had his doubts this was Severus' idea, but he appreciated the thought.
However, appreciative as he was, he couldn't resist a bit of sass.
"Is this an apology for lying to me?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrow at Harry. "Or…," he turned to address Severus, "some sort of 'I'm sorry for shagging your best mate' peace offering?"
Severus stilled for a beat, his dark eyes fixed on Ron's. He cleared his throat and the corners of his lips twitched. "Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm not precisely sorry to be sh--"
He was cut off by a swift elbow to the ribs from Harry. Shame, that was a pretty good comeback. Ron fought down a smile.
Feeling a little silly, he put his hand out towards the snake, who regarded him cautiously. He hissed a greeting, and the snake nodded in return.
"That was really good!" Harry said cheerfully.
"What's his name?" Ron asked. He stroked along the snake's scales, as black and shiny as the Snape's hair, and was stuck with a very funny thought.
"He doesn't have one," Severus replied. "He is a gift for you, Mr. Weasley, so I imagine you should decide."
"Well, we could call him Severus," Ron said cheekily. "Severus Snake."
"Ron!" Hermione admonished. "We can't call it Severus. He's called Severus."
"Well, we could call him Human Severus, in order to differentiate," Ron said, gently unwinding Severus Snake from Severus Snape's arm, meeting his amused expression.
"I'm not calling my boyfriend Human Severus," Harry said definitively, feigning annoyance but clearly holding back a laugh.
"I think it's a fine idea," Severus interjected. "It's a fine name, after all. As it happens, I'm planning to purchase a pet tarantula. What do you think of the name Ronald?"
"You wouldn't!" Ron said with huff.
Severus and Ron stared for a moment before Ron erupted into laughter. Even Severus let out a chuckle, something Ron never imagined he'd hear and something in both Harry and Hermione's expressions loosened.
"Well, come on in, Human Severus, how do you take tea?" Ron asked, letting the snake slither around his shoulders and hiss something in his ear.
The others followed him into the kitchen, and before long, food was served and drinks were poured and conversation had flowed naturally.
Towards the end of the meal and a touch tipsy, Ron spoke.
"Of course I'm happy for you both, you great git," he said, addressing Harry. "You know I do, er, you know, love you and everything, right? We're best friends."
"Ronald," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Emotional range of a teaspoon, still. 'I love you and everything', really?"
"Well, I do," Ron said and he saw Harry and Severus exchange a look before Harry smiled at him.
"I know," Harry replied.
Ron regarded the snake, who'd fallen asleep on him. "How do you say that anyway, in Parseltongue?"
"What, I love you?" Harry asked. He thought about it. "Hmm, there's actually two ways for that--that sentiment. There's an I love you, mate." Harry glanced at Severus, and his expression softened. He hissed a phrase at him, five syllables. Ron caught the expression in his former Professor's face, and if there was any doubt in their relationship, it was gone now.
And then Harry turned to him. "And then there's I love you family. Which sounds like this." He hissed out something that sounded something like ah, ska, ssss, ska.
Ron smiled, and hissed it back as best he could. It was much more strangled sounding than smooth from his unpracticed lips, but judging from Harry's expression, he thought he did just fine.