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Harry was aware of Ron being taller than him, but it seemed like suddenly Ron, between their second and third year, had shot up and Harry had to tip his head up to be able to look him directly in the eyes. He saw how Ron would sometimes trip over his own feet or hit his head on the lower lamps in the library, but Harry felt like he was going through something worse than just long legs and an even longer torso.
He felt… different when Ron would press his leg against Harry’s at breakfast or when he would wrap his arm around Harry, excitedly talking as they walked back to the castle after one of the earlier Quidditch practices that Wood had held. He didn’t know why he would feel the warmth of Ron’s arm around him even as he got ready for bed. He felt his heart do a strange lurch as they got into bed, bidding each other “goodnight” before closing the curtains on their four-poster beds. Harry lay awake for some time willing his heart to stop pounding against his chest so loudly and trying to blink away the image of Ron’s smile over at Rarry as he shut his own curtains.
It figures that Hermione, even with the mountains of homework and classes she was taking, managed to understand Harry’s feelings before he did. Hermione and Ron were in a tense truce, both still at odds about Crookshanks, but were doing their best for now to avoid anything that would start the fight again. Ron had just finished his potions essay and with a wide yawn, pushed his parchment roll over to Harry and got up.
“I’m knackered. Night.”
Both Hermione, who had two more essays to write and Harry who had been staring at his own potions essay for what felt like a century, bid him a goodnight and stayed put in their spots in the common room. Ron gave them a sympathetic smile and gave Harry a small squeeze on his back before heading up the stairs to the boys dorm. Harry felt his cheeks warming as he quickly ducked down and looked at his essay. Hermione looked at him quizzically, but did not say anything about Harry’s odd reaction.
Just because Ron claimed Hermione had her head in a book all the time, did not mean she didn’t notice that Harry had the same expression as Crookshanks getting brushed, when Ron grabbed him in a quick sideways hug when Harry told him to copy his charms homework instead of going to the library. While she disapproved of the copying specifically, she could not help but be happy at this revelation- Harry had a crush on Ron.
Harry was as unaware of this prospect, as this was the first time in his life that he started to get a funny feeling around somebody, and it definitely was the first time he had felt this way about his best friend. He found himself wanting to find reasons for Ron to put his arm around Harry more. More reasons to have even more of Ron’s attention on him.
It wasn’t just that Harry started feeling funny around Ron, he also started to notice things more prominently like how Ron’s freckles were fading as winter approached and the sun seemed to be hiding most of the time. It was all he could do to not accidentally reach out and touch Ron’s face. While wanting to have Ron next to him all the time, it also didn’t help him control any of these feelings he was having.
With all the practices and homework, Harry would have hoped sleep would come to him quickly, but he sometimes would find himself staring at the ceiling thinking about the next match, Black, but more often than not thinking about Ron. His mind replaying moments where he was sure Ron must know how he was feeling, like the moment when Ron had told Fred to find another seat on the busy table because the one next to him was for Harry.
Harry was a bit slow with his feelings, but even he knew that these feelings about Ron were not going anywhere and, as a matter of fact, might be getting worse.
Ron threw a jumper onto Harry’s bed, groaning. “Honestly Harry, nothing fits me anymore and mum said if I keep asking for her to send more clothes she will make me wear Ginny’s jumpers.” Harry tried to hold in his snort and give a sympathetic look to Ron. Luckily Ron was in such despair he didn’t notice the smile that escaped Harry’s lips. Of course Harry cared that Ron was limited on clothing options, but he didn’t think it would be such a big problem for him until he showed up from practice one evening and a bunch of jumpers were on his bed.
“What’s this?” Harry asked Ron. Ron looked up at Harry, another jumper lazily being folded in his hands.
“Don’t fit me anymore, was wondering if you wanted them otherwise I was going to send it back home.”
Harry’s stomach did a weird twirl, like the time he had ridden Buckbeak.
“Thanks mate” Harry said slightly breathless, even though he had long since caught his breath from practice.
When he came down to the common room one day wearing one of the sweaters Ron had outgrown, Hermione looked up and gave him a curious look.
“Is that… Ron’s” she asked slowly, to not spook him. Harry looked down at the sweater, and gave an unconvincing performance of making it seem like he just noticed that it was. “Yeah, he-um, didn’t fit anymore so gave it to me” Harry awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. Hermione hummed, a small smile that Harry did not know what to make of on her face.
Harry felt some panic that Hermione knew exactly how Harry felt when he was wearing Ron’s old sweaters. He was sure that anytime he looked at Ron, Hermione seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and that she could hear his heart racing as he talked to Ron. It didn’t help that homework was getting thrown at them at a greater rate than ever before and Harry did not need his worries about what Hermione did or did not know to creep up on him as he struggled to remember how to do simple transformation charms.
The three of them were the last in the common room and around 12:30 Hermione snapped her book shut and rubbed her eyes. “I’m finally done for today” she said, “I’ll look at the rest of the stuff for Hagrid and Buckbeak tomorrow morning.” She began packing her things up, Ron looking at her miserably.
“Get to bed soon” she told them, bidding them goodnight and leaving them alone. Ron sighed and leaned back in his chair, “I think I’m calling it soon too.” Harry agreed, but knew he had to finish the last of his reading now or he never would.
“Me too, but I just have a paragraph left to get through.”
Ron nodded, “I’ll stay here until you finish.”
“You don’t have to-“ Harry began to say, but Ron gave him a look that arguing would be pointless and anyway he only had a little left.
Harry felt victorious as he finished the last sentence and was able to shut his book as well. He looked up at Ron with a grin, “finished” he said, relief clear on his face. Ron grinned back, but he seemed to be a little off all of a sudden. Harry knocked his knee against Ron’s lightly, “everything alright?” he asked.
Ron looked at him with a guilty expression on his face as if he had been caught eating all the Honeydukes candy in the pile they’d made together.
“Nothing,” Ron said too quickly. Harry scoffed, “it has to be somethi-“ but he was caught off when suddenly he had a pair of lips pressing against his and Ron’s hand pressed onto his arm to support himself as he leaned forward.
It was over before Harry could even close his eyes.
“I’m sorry” Ron said, louder than what was needed in the quiet of the common room, pushing his chair and hastily getting up. Harry jumped out of his chair just as fast and grabbed Ron’s arm, “wait” he said. Ron stood still, not turning his body to face Harry’s.
“Ron” Harry softly said, moving so that he was in front of Ron. Ron began to open his mouth to say something but anything he was starting to say was muffled by Harry pressing his lips against Ron’s. Ron quickly reached up, placing one of his hands on Harry’s cheek and the other around him to pull him to Ron’s chest. Harry pulled back, breathless, pressing his forehead hard against Ron’s. His arms were on either side of Ron’s neck and the thought of separating seemed like a far and distant thing.
“Ron, I’m not mad about it, but why did you kiss me?” Harry asked, looking at Ron. Ron let out what he would claim wasn’t a squeak, but definitely was. “Mate you kissed me back” Ron tried as his defense. Harry laughed and pushed himself closer to Ron, “yeah of course I did.” Ron looked at him incredulously, “have you… have you wanted to kiss me as well” Ron asked, his voice unsure.
Harry stared at Ron and broke into a grin, “I just kissed you twice, of course I’ve wanted to kiss you as well.” The boys both laughed at their stupidity, “we could’ve been doing this all this time. Fred’s been nagging me for ages” Ron muttered, his voice still holding onto a tiny bit of disbelief.
The two held onto each other, a little awkward as their teeth clacked together and Ron having to bend in a slightly painful angle, but Harry felt the tension of the past year of harboring a crush on Ron leave his body. The two looked at each other and laughed lightly.
“I think we’ve gotta practice this a little more,” Harry smiled as he looked at Ron. Ron reddened, “wouldn’t mind that at all” he mumbled, aiming for nonchalant but his pink cheeks betrayed him and his hold on Harry was more comforting than all the jumpers Ron had given him combined. “Yeah?” Harry murmured, cheekily pecking Ron on the lips again. “Yeah” Ron agreed, giving Harry one last long, tender kiss for the night.
The two made their way up to the boys room, shoulders brushing against each other as they did, and small toothpaste covered smiles shared in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth. Harry turned to Ron and pulled him into a hug, mumbling a “goodnight” into Ron’s pajama top. He felt Ron’s heavy fingertips brush over the top of his head and the way Ron pressed his nose into the side of Harry’s neck. “Night” he replied and the two shut off the lights and tip-toed to their beds. Harry pressed his fingers against his lips, letting a breathless laugh escape. He was glad that Ron had been brave enough to kiss him because if it was up to Harry, he was sure he would’ve been wearing Ron’s sweaters until they unraveled before he said anything. Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face and the thought of waking up tomorrow and not being worried if Ron could tell that he was staring too long at his face.
The next morning they told Hermione, who teared up a little and threw an arm around them before telling them the exact moment when she knew. Harry supposed he had been a little dense to not know that his feelings could only be summed up to a crush on his best friend for the better half of his third year, but Hermione did not have to keep laughing at him about it. It didn’t matter anyways, they might have been dense about their feelings, but they were getting better at silencing charms and Hermione could only be proud about that, even if it was to sneak into each other’s beds at night.