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Ache: a continuous or prolonged dull pain. A word and feeling Ron had grown used to. He was used to being the forgotten Weasley. All his older brothers have made a name for themselves and are all successful in their own right. Ginny was the youngest and only girl. But she was so much more than that. She was brave and talented beyond words. All of them had something, yet Ron felt as if he had nothing. Yeah, he had the love of his friends and family, but that could only dull the ache so much. He didn’t want to be known as Fred and George’s little brother, or Ginny’s older brother, or even as just another Weasley. He wanted to be seen, even if it was just by one other person. He was tired of falling into the shadows of everyone. Why couldn’t anyone just see him for him?
“Ron?”
The boy glanced up from where he was sitting, leaning against an old tree. Harry stood in front of him, blocking the sunlight. His glasses sat perched on the end of his nose, fogged up and smudged. “What’s up, mate?”
Harry shifted, dropping down beside Ron with his back to the tree. His shoulder and arm brushed against Ron’s, warm and weirdly comforting. “You okay?”
Ron could hear the worry in his tone. Ron nodded, “All good.”
Harry’s lips pursed into a line. He lifted a finger to shove his glasses back up his nose. “You disappeared earlier. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ron could feel his agitation growing, but it wasn’t Harry’s fault. It was his. Always his. “Just needed a breather. Had gotten too stuffy in there.”
Harry nodded, though it looked as if he didn’t really accept the answer fully. Sometimes he wasn’t as oblivious as he seemed, though he didn’t push either. Ron was grateful for that. Harry leaned his head back against the tree, eyes staring out at the black lake. “Never did notice how pretty it is.”
Ron snorted, eyes drifting over to him. “Well, we’ve spent most of our years here fighting monsters and evil weirdos obsessed with children.”
Harry’s eyes crinkled at the edges, his own laughter filling the air. A flutter rose in Ron, stirring up the weird feelings he’s tried so hard to bury down. The familiar ache returned, yet he couldn’t make himself look away. He looked at Harry’s bright eyes shining, his familiar messy hair that Ron had grown to love. His eyes trailed along the boy, noticing his loosened tie hanging around his neck and the ruffled robes. He looked so cute. He blinked hard, jerking his eyes away. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He thought Harry was cute. So cute that he wanted to kiss him. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth, chewing on the pink flesh till it sparkled red. He was so doomed, so very doomed.
Silence settled around them. His eyes stared towards the lake, zoning out on the water sparkling in the sunlight. Occasionally, he could see the flicking tentacles of the giant squid as it sunbathed in the bright warmth. “Ron?”
He blinked, tearing his eyes away to look at Harry again. “Hm?”
Silence settled briefly again as Harry thought of his next words. Ron could tell he was anxiously chewing at his cheek. Finally, he spoke, “Are we okay?”
His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend. “Of course,” he scrunched his nose, “why wouldn’t we be?”
Harry shrugged, his smile awkward. “Just wanted to make sure,” He glanced off towards the tree lining, then back to Ron. “Maybe we should head back. Lunch is soon.”
Ron nodded absently. Was there something wrong between them? Had Harry realized what Ron tried so hard to keep in the dark? Had he finally realized how unneeded he truly was? The thought made Ron want to throw up his breakfast. His stomach turned. He shook his head quickly, trying to clear his mind. He stood up quickly, falling into step with Harry as he caught up. “Hopefully, there’s still good stuff left. Going to need a full stomach for all this studying later. Hermione has already prepared a time sheet to split time for each subject.”
Ron laughed, nodding in agreement. “Goodbye, weekend Quidditch.”
───
Ron sat perched on the window bench in the Gryffindor common room. The chatter and laughter of fellow students surrounded him. Music played, just barely heard over everyone else. Ron watched as everyone celebrated another Gryffindor win. Yet, his main focus, much to his dismay, was Harry. In a room full of people, he still found him. Harry was his light in the dark. The ache returned.
A girl, a pretty brunette with sparkling eyes, approached Harry. Ron watched. Harry said something. She laughed, leaning into his space. Her hand rested on his arm. She was close, too close. Harry, awkward and shy, laughed. His eyes crinkled, long hair falling into his face. The ache grew.
Ron's stomach churned as he watched them. He stood and did as he knew he would always do. He left. He pushed through the crowd of people and disappeared up the steps to the boy's dormitory. Ron was a coward. He'd always be a coward when it came to feelings. Ron felt shame grow along with the pained ache that he could never escape. Familiar eyes watched him go.
Ron pushed his away into the dormitory, letting the door click shut behind him. He tugged at his shirt collar, a sob tearing through his lips. Ron stumbled into the bathroom, eyes becoming blurry. He shoved the door shut, sliding down against it. He pulled his knees to his chest, finally allowing himself to break down. He was replaceable. He wasn't smart like Hermione, brave like Harry, or pretty like any of the girls who looked Harry's way. He had nothing to give.
Ron wasn't sure how long he had sat curled up on the bathroom floor. His tears had dried, leaving his face sticky and red. He felt tired. His body was still tense but slightly less pent up with all the emotions he was feeling. He was glad in the moment for being unnoticed. Ron didn't need anyone to see him in this state. Especially him.
“Ron?” A soft knock against the door was heard. “Ron, you in there? Are you okay?”
Panic filled him. He tensed, trying to find his voice. Why did Harry have to find him? “I..I'm fine. Need something?” He cursed his shaking voice. His voice sounded wrecked. Harry noticed. He always did.
“Ron let me in.” The doorknob rattled. Ron kept his back against the door. “Ron, please.” His voice cracked.
Ron inhaled shakily. He couldn't handle Harry’s tone sounding like that. He pushed himself away from the door, now pressing his back against the opposite wall. Harry shoved the door open. He came to a halt, seeing Ron's appearance. His expression broke in a way Ron never wanted to see again.
“Ron..” Harry dropped to his knees in front of him after shutting the door back. “Talk to me, please.”
Ron shook his head. He couldn't. His teeth dug into his lip, trying not to sob again. Yet a whimper slipped through, and now his eyes were blurry again. He dropped his head down. He didn't get a chance to feel embarrassed as warm arms quickly wrapped around him. Harry’s voice was soft against his ear. Ron couldn't understand a word at that moment, but he clutched the other boy like a lifeline. Harry let him. He had no thought of pulling away, certainly not from Ron.
Minutes ticked by. Ron's sobs eventually quieted down to small whimpers and sniffles. Harry didn't move an inch. He would've stayed by Ron's side all night if needed. “Ron?” He whispered, breaking the silence.
“I'm sorry.”
The low, broken tone was one Harry heard before. He never wanted to hear it again. His grip tightened around the other boy. “You have nothing to apologize for, Ron. What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”
Ron shook his head, pulling away. He didn't like the cold feeling his absence left. “Everything is wrong. I'm wrong.”
Harry's eyes squinted, a tell of his confusion. “What's wrong, Ron? I don't understand.”
He looked up at Harry, tears sliding down his cheeks and dropping onto his shirt. “Everything! How I feel isn't right. This ache that won't leave isn't right. I just want to be normal again. Why can't I be normal?”
Harry shifted to sit fully, then pulled Ron closer. “I'm not going to act like I completely understand what you're saying, but there's no such thing as normal, Ron. I mean, look at where we are. We're at a magic school! We can do magic with these sticks. Ghosts and so many other unimaginable creatures surround us. Far from normal.”
Ron blinked, a look of disbelief crossing his face. Harry’s words were so far off from what he meant, yet it weirdly helped. Only Harry and his outrageousness could do such a thing. Ron found himself laughing uncontrollably at the realization. Tears of sadness became happy ones. He glanced at Harry, and it only made him laugh harder. Harry eventually joined him, leaning against Ron as he laughed.
Ron could feel the warmth of Harry spreading to him. This whole situation was unbelievable. He was sitting sprawled on a bathroom floor, sobbing and breaking down uncontrollably in Harry’s arms, and now was in a laughing fit with him. This complete experience was a mess. Though it was fitting, their whole Hogwarts experience was full of ups and downs. Never did they get a chance to have a normal year. Maybe that was just how it was meant to be. Abnormal.
“I like you, Harry.” He blurted.
The dark-haired boy quieted, eyes burning into the side of Ron's head. “What?”
Ron pressed his head back against the counter. He couldn't backtrack now; he might as well be honest. “I like you. More than a friend way. Different from how I like Hermione. Maybe,” he looked at Harry, gaze surprisingly steady. “Maybe even more than just like. I think I love you.”
Silence settled briefly. Harry processing the unexpected confession. “You think?”
Ron huffed, eyes rolling. “I do love you.”
Harry's lips shifted into a grin. “I love you too, Ronnie.”
They would never get a normal life, but that was okay. Ron was fine with it as long as he had Harry. “Don't call me that!” He grumbled, glaring as Harry laughed.
Harry’s hand found his. Their fingers interlaced. It felt right. “Come on, we should get some sleep.” Harry didn't let go as they stood up. He stayed at Ron's side, hand in hand. And if they decided to stay in the same bed, not wanting to separate that night. Well, it was no one's business but theirs.