Thank you everyone for the reviews! I really enjoy hearing your comments. I'd like to remind you all that the majority of this was written pre-OotP, but you'll be able to tell when it changes because you'll see references to things that happen in book 5.
So you finally get to see Harry this chapter, so I hope you'll get a sense of what he's been through. Hopefully by the time I have these back-chapters posted I will have the one I'm working on now finished. Enjoy this chapter.
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The pale blue house at the end of the road slowly came into view as Ron walked down the street of Godric's Hollow. The house was situated in the corner of a dead end street, and featured a large field surrounded by trees that sat next to the house and wrapped around the backyard.
Ron stood in front of the house for a moment before walking up the sidewalk to the door. Flashbacks from their friendship flooded his thoughts, and he reflected on how much they had changed since that first ride on the Hogwarts Express. He couldn't remember how many times they'd almost been expelled from school, how many points they'd lost Gryffindor, or how many dirty names they'd called Snape. They had laughs, fights, and emotional moments they swore not to tell anyone about. They had sat up into the early hours of the morning making up answers for Divination, talking Quidditch strategy, and telling each other about the girl they had a crush on.
But just as Ron could look back on his years at Hogwarts and remember all the good times, there were just as many dark times to even them out. Mountain trolls, secret Chambers, deaths of loved ones…. these moments seemed to come as a package deal if you were friends with Harry Potter. He was The Boy Who Lived and vanquisher of all things evil, not to mention the center of attention wherever he went. To Ron and a small group of people though, he was Harry. Insecure in his abilities, shy, and extremely stubborn.
Walking toward Harry's new home turned out to be more of a chore than Ron expected. His nerves were beginning to flare up, reminiscent of the feeling he usually got when studying for exams. At first he questioned the reason of his nerves, but reality hit him like a ton of bricks. Harry had cut himself off from the world, including his friends. Ron couldn't help being disturbed that Harry wouldn't share his pain with his friends and let them help him. He'd shut them out before, but never for this long. Harry hadn't even told them where he was, which hurt even more. Ron was pissed at Harry, but more than anything he was worried that Harry's unfortunate fame had pushed him over the edge.
Approaching the two small steps leading to the door, he stopped and looked around the neighborhood. Serene didn't begin to explain it. The sun was just beginning to hide behind the trees, signaling the beginning of the weekend. He would leave on Sunday evening, hopefully with more answers than questions. It didn't seem like a lot of time to catch up with your best friend after not seeing him for a year, but it would have to do. They were adults now, which included adult responsibilities. And right now, his first responsibility was to Harry.
A few deep breaths prepared Ron for the challenge in front of him as he knocked on the door three times. While waiting for Harry to answer, he began to run possible reasons for seclusion through his head. The most obvious was Sirius' death. He was the closest thing Harry ever had to a father, and Ron could only imagine how much it hurt him to find out that Sirius had been captured and given the Dementor's Kiss after being on the run for four years. The details were sketchy at best, but Ron figured Sirius' death and Harry's defeat of Voldemort happened within days of each other.
The door opened and there stood Harry, looking almost exactly the same as the last time Ron saw him: jet-black hair that stood in all directions, wire-rimmed glasses, and a frame that showed no signs of the scrawny eleven-year-old he met eight years ago on the Hogwarts Express. As much as he looked the same, though, there was something different about him, an air about him that took a minute to pick up on. And then it hit him. The look in his eyes was the same look he would get after being up all night having nightmares. The bags under his eyes almost made him look like a deranged lunatic, and now were no different. Except this time the lunatic looked like he hadn't slept in a year.
"Are you just going to stand on the porch all weekend, or would you like to come inside?" Ron jerked his head to realize Harry had just spoken to him, breaking his obvious stare. A small smile escaped him, and he followed Harry into the house, setting his bag down in the foyer. They stood in silence for a moment, and Ron took the opportunity to look around the ground level. Boxes were still scattered here and there, but the atmosphere was relaxing, as if he'd visited many times before.
The silence would have gone on longer, but Ron noticed he wasn't the only one staring. Harry was standing there watching him with a smile he usually only used on Christmas.
"What?" Ron asked.
"I'm just really glad you're here," Harry replied as he threw his arm around Ron's shoulder, smirking for what Ron figured was the first time in months. "Well then, fancy a tour of my humble abode?"
Ron simply nodded as they began walking through the ground level of the house. Moving left from the foyer was a sitting room. Two sofas and three chairs were situated around a fireplace that sat on the far wall, accented with end tables and a large coffee table in the center. Pictures were scattered throughout the room, and Ron mused that most of them were of him, Harry, and Hermione. As they moved towards the back of the house, they walked into a larger sitting room, where many boxes were scattered throughout the floor, most of them containing books. A fireplace sat of the left wall of this room as well, and a desk sat against a large picture window on the back wall overlooking the back yard.
"I haven't really made up my mind about this room yet, but I'm leaning towards turning it into a library. You know, putting up some shelves and maybe a couple of chairs to put in front of the fireplace, " Harry said. These were the most words he had strung together since Ron arrived, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Ron. He couldn't be sure, but Ron also swore he saw Harry smile at the mention of turning the room into a library.
They next moved off to the right into what Ron was sure was the biggest kitchen he'd ever seen, besides Hogwarts, of course. The tiling on the floor looked brand new, and the island and countertops were a light marble, making the kitchen the lightest room in the house. Harry opened a sliding door and went out onto the patio, signaling Ron to follow him. The backyard was massive, surrounded by trees on every side. Ron mused that it even looked big enough for a Quidditch match. Good thing I brought my broom, he thought. They walked around the yard for a moment, enjoying the warm summer evening, before heading back into the house.
On the other side of the kitchen, Harry opened a door and they went down a couple of stairs to find a huge room with no coloring whatsoever. The floor was concrete, and the walls were very plain. Harry must have noticed the perplexed look on Ron's face, as he spoke up to answer the questions.
"It's a garage, big enough for three cars. I can't decide what to do with it, so right now it's just storage."
Ron simply nodded as he noticed the boxes and trunks throughout the room. Soon enough they walked back up the stairs and into the kitchen once again. This time they entered the last room on the ground floor, which appeared to be a formal dining room. A crystal chandelier hung over the top of the table, which sat in the middle of the room.
They continued to walk in silence through the house, except for Harry giving brief descriptions of the rooms and Ron nodding and making brief comments. Having seen the whole first floor of the house, they returned to the foyer through a doorway in the formal dining room. Harry grabbed Ron's bag and began to walk upstairs, motioning Ron to follow.
The stairs and the floors were polished hardwood, but it appeared that each of the four bedrooms he could see from the top of the stairs were carpeted. Two of the bedrooms were to the left of the stairs, with one on each side of the hallway. As they went into the room on the right, Harry set Ron's bag down on the bed and pointed out the walk-in closet. This must be my room, he thought. Harry then walked out of the room, Ron following close behind. Another bedroom was on the right side of the hall past the stairs, with Harry's bedroom sitting at the end of the hall. It was easily the largest bedroom, possibly bigger than two of the smaller bedrooms put together. It also had a walk-in closet, though bigger than the one in Ron's room, and a private bathroom big enough to get lost in. Many times Ron opened his mouth to comment, but he changed his mind when he noticed the look on Harry's face. He was now smiling constantly, and appeared to be happy for the first time in a long while.
"Well, I think that's about it. Sorry that I didn't give you a more detailed tour, but I figured most of the rooms were self-explanatory. I'm also afraid that my skills as an interior designer, well, suck." Harry chuckled at his own words, causing Ron to burst into laughter as well. "I'll give you some time to get settled in your room. Come down to the kitchen when you're done and we'll have a bite to eat."
Ron walked back down to his room and began to unpack his bag as Harry sped down the stairs, presumably to the kitchen. He only had one bag since he would only be staying a couple of days, but Ron took the opportunity to think about Harry's behavior so far and what it meant overall. Harry's mood did seem to be improving, and he even cracked a few jokes along the way. But something was different about Harry, even though Ron couldn't put his finger on it right now. What, or who, brought about this change? The answer to the question hit Ron suddenly. Without noticing what he was doing, Ron had avoided all mention of Hermione's name thus far, as had Harry. Then again, Harry hadn't done much talking at all.
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Ron sat with Harry at the small table in the kitchen, eating in silence. Every minute he would look up at Harry, open his mouth to speak, and then look back down at his plate after losing his nerve. He wanted to bring up the subject of Hermione, but it just didn't seem like the right time. As they finished their meal of sandwiches and iced pumpkin juice, Ron decided to express another concern he had.
"Harry, I'm really sorry about Sirius. He was the closest link you had to your parents, and I know how much you loved him. But it's occurred to me that you may blame yourself in some way."
Harry stopped dead in his tracks at the sink, holding himself up with his arms. Ron couldn't see the look on his face, but he could tell that Harry's face was flushed red. He stood in silence for a few minutes with his back to Ron before finally turning around, his face soaked with tears.
"I am to blame. He was only there to help me. I was the cause of his problems from day one!" Anger was now flowing through Harry. He stared at Ron, tears rolling down his face, but the rage was driving him at this moment. Ron rose from his seat in response.
"You can't honestly believe that, Harry," he bellowed back. And then words came from his mouth he would immediately regret saying. "When are you going to learn that not everything is about you? Just as you can't be everyone's savior, you also can't blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. Shit happens, Harry. You can't bury yourself for a year every time someone's taken from you."
"Shut the hell up, Ron! You don't know what it's like to be me. I am expected to be everyone's savior, whether I like it or not. I didn't ask for any of this…" Harry trailed off, the emotion of the moment taking over.
"You know, Harry, you're right," Ron barked back, "I don't know what it's like to be you. It's not like I'm your best friend or anything, then maybe I could understand. But since I'm just the 'Famous Harry Potter's loyal sidekick,' I guess I'm not entitled to the inner workings of your mind."
They stood staring at each other with angry eyes for a few minutes, unable to speak. The tension was thick, and both of them appeared ready to stand their ground. Finally, Ron dropped his eyes to the floor and began to walk towards the stairs. "It's been a long day, Harry. I'm going to bed."
As Ron was washing up, he began to think about the events that transpired in the kitchen. The evening started out as being relaxing, but went steadily downhill from there. He thought about what he said to Harry. They were cruel words, but they needed to be said.
As Ron was returning to his room, he stopped at the stairs when he heard a noise. Listening carefully, he realized it was Harry. Ron had never heard him cry before; Harry had always been a pillar of strength, even when it would be easy to break down. It was at that moment that Ron realized just how much Harry was affected by Sirius' death. He walked back to his room, having decided to apologize to Harry in the morning.
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Harry sat in the front sitting room crying loudly. Ron can probably hear, he thought. But he didn't care at the moment. Ron's words really hit him hard. Did he really only see himself as my sidekick? Harry wished he could tell him everything that happened to Sirius, but it was still too painful to talk about. A short time later he walked up to his bedroom, having decided to explain his reasoning to Ron in the morning.
It was almost 10:30 before Harry woke the next morning. He spent half the night trying to plan out his apology to Ron for his outburst last night, and hadn't fallen asleep until 2 a.m. When he did sleep, it was peaceful for the first time in over a year. He had youthful energy again, something that shouldn't be lacking in an eighteen-year-old.
He went downstairs and realized that Ron must still be in bed as he walked into the kitchen for a glass of orange juice. He tried to pick up the book he had been reading before Ron arrived yesterday afternoon, but his mind kept traveling back to their fight yesterday. He was finally starting to understand what Ron meant last night, or at least he thought he understood. It wasn't so much that Ron felt like his sidekick, but instead he felt betrayed that Harry couldn't confide in him. The realization almost made Harry break down again, but he was forced to pull it together when Ron walked into the kitchen.
He sat down at the opposite end of the table from Harry, looking just as miserable as he felt. After spying Harry crying last night, Ron laid awake for what seemed like hours, trying to understand. Finally, he came to the conclusion that only Harry could make him understand.
Harry got up from the table and took his glass to the sink. As he reached the refrigerator, he caught Ron's eye. "Would you like something to eat?" It wasn't what he originally planned to say, but it was a start.
"I could go for a glass of that orange juice."
Harry began to open the refrigerator, but stopped and turned back towards the table. He tensed up for a brief moment, then relaxed and began to speak. "Ron, I owe you an apology."
"Harry, I," Ron interjected. Harry cut him off, though, putting his hand up to silence him.
"Please, I need you to hear me out." Ron nodded. "First of all, you never have been or never will be my sidekick. Second, I realize you feel betrayed in some way because I didn't confide in you, and as much as I wish I had a good explanation, I don't. And while I realize that I shouldn't feel responsible for Sirius' death, the fact remains that I do. I can't help it." He paused for a moment, but started again when he noticed Ron was about to make a comment. "Hold on, I'm not finished yet. I know you have tons of questions to ask about what I've been doing and where I've been the last year. I promise that you'll eventually know everything, but the truth is that I still don't have everything sorted out myself. And I know this may sound a little déjà vu, but I have to work this out on my own."
"Are you finished now?"
"Yes."
"Good, now you get to listen to me without interruption." Ron paused for a moment, and Harry nodded in agreement. Harry was now seated back at the table, only now they were sitting next to each other. "I owe you an apology for some of the things I said last night. Actually, for just about everything I said last night. I've never for one moment felt like your sidekick, but understand that it does hurt when you shut your friends out the way you have. All you had to do was tell us you needed some time alone, and we would have been happy just to know you were alright." Ron stopped at these words after noticing that Harry was staring at the table, possibly realizing for the first time the effect his absence had on his friends. "Harry, I'm sorry if I sounded harsh and insensitive last night. After seven years as your best friend, I should have known better than to suggest that you saw yourself as some kind of savior. If those nasty Muggles you lived with did anything right, they made you humble."
They sat at the table in silence for many minutes, mulling over what the other said in detail. Harry felt extremely guilty for not having enough consideration to tell his friends where he was the last year. If he was being entirely truthful with himself, he'd only originally planned to stay away for a few weeks, but once he had time to himself, he had retreated into what he could only describe as a time of self-reflection.
"So can I have that orange juice now, or do I have to complain to the manager?" Ron asked. He had started to notice that Harry was looking detached, just as he had yesterday afternoon, and Ron wanted the rest of their weekend to be enjoyable. Harry looked up and smiled, then walked to the refrigerator and poured him a glass of orange juice. He handed it to Ron, and got a devilish grin on his face.
"It's a nice day. Why don't we go out in the backyard and do some flying? You know, just for fun."
"Sounds good to me. But I don't want to hear any complaining when I kick your ass in a race. Got it?"
"Oh, please! No offense, Ron, but there's a reason you're a Keeper."
They both laughed light-heartedly. Everyone and their brother knew that Harry was the best Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen, and therefore was one of the fastest wizards on a broomstick. It also didn't hurt that the Firebolt Harry owned was still considered one of the best brooms on the market. Ron went up to his room to grab his broom, a Nimbus Two Thousand and One (more than adequate for a Keeper), and met Harry back in the kitchen.
Flying in Harry's backyard turned out to be a pleasant experience. Harry challenged Ron to a race around the edge of the trees that enclosed the backyard, but Ron lost almost before they started. His pride only slightly hurt, Ron then challenged Harry to try and score a goal against him. As it turned out, Harry was much better at catching Snitches than throwing a Quaffle. Ron found it amusing that he was finally better than Harry at some skill, a fact Harry was more than willing to admit.
From time to time they would just hover in the air and talk about Quidditch. One moment they would be recalling some of the more memorable times they had as teammates, and the next moment Ron would be going on about the Cannons. On more than one occasion, Ron had Harry laughing so hard about the lump that was their Seeker that Harry almost fell off his broom.
Late in the afternoon, they finally decided to go inside and rest. Ron was happy with how the day had gone so far, once they had apologized to each other and cleared the air. His only hope was that it would last until tomorrow, when he had to rejoin his team in Chudley. He also planned to stop by Hermione's place and let her know how the weekend went. Oh shit, Hermione! He'd completely forgotten about her after last night, and he had made a promise to himself to get some kind of insight from Harry on the whole situation. In fact, it was almost a mission to make sure that Harry and Hermione got together. If that meant being the sensitive best friend, a title he wasn't exactly comfortable with, then that's what he would do.
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Harry walked around the kitchen getting a meal together while Ron took a shower upstairs. He felt happy for the first time in a long while, but he was still missing something. At first he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but the answer flooded his thoughts when his eye caught his novel on the counter. Hermione. He'd been able to go almost the whole weekend without desperately missing her, but right now, standing alone with only his thoughts as company, he couldn't help it.
Once he silently spoke her name, it was all over. He slumped down into a chair at the table and buried his face in his hands. The question he asked himself was the same one he had asked a month ago. If I had stayed with her that night, would she be here with me right now? He knew it sounded stupid, but his mind was racing trying to make sense of these thoughts. I wouldn't be surprised if she just comes here to swear at me. What kind of a guy tells his best friend that he's in love with her and then leaves for a year without so much as a hello? I need her so much, but I'm afraid I might have scared her away.
If it hadn't been for Ron appearing in the doorway to the kitchen, Harry probably would have stayed glued to that same chair for the rest of the evening. As it turned out, Ron found him sitting there looking horrible, with tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
"Are you okay, Harry?" he asked.
Harry looked up and saw the worry in Ron's eyes. There was no talking his way out of this one. Ron had explained to him by owl why he was coming separately from Hermione, so Harry knew Ron was aware of his feelings for their best friend. He sighed heavily, ran his shaking hands through his hair, and looked at Ron like a lost puppy. "I miss her."
Here we go, Ron thought. He sat next to Harry and nodded. He'd been planning what to say for weeks, but decided to give Harry a chance to speak first.
"Bloody hell, I miss her," he began, sitting up and looking straight up at the ceiling. Suddenly, his eyes focused on Ron and he had a horrible thought. "Please tell me she's not just coming here to tell me off. I don't think I could handle it."
"I wouldn't say that, but you're going to have to do a good bit of explaining, I'm sure."
"I figured that much. I'm prepared for the explaining, but I'm worried that I've ruined any chance I may have had for us to be together."
"Listen up, Harry. What you need to know is that Hermione has been absolutely miserable since you left. She worries about you every second of every day. She's also afraid, Harry. She didn't say that, but she didn't have to, because I could see it in her eyes. I'm not entirely sure what exactly happened between the two of you that night, but I think it's been haunting her in some way."
Harry was staring at the table, again feeling guilty about leaving her alone that night. "I pushed her away, Ron. And believe me, it was the last thing I wanted to do. My mind was telling me to go, but the rest of me wanted to stay more than anything. Now, it seems the only thing I can think about lately is how different everything might be if I had stayed."
"She asked you to stay? In her room? Alone?" Ron was shocked. They couldn't possibly be talking about the same person. He dated Hermione for three months before she would even let him kiss her, and before they could go any further, it had become clear to Ron that she was interested in someone else.
Harry just shook his head. He knew he had witnessed a side of Hermione that she never let anyone see, and he had only seen it once. He quickly remembered all the different emotions in her eyes that night, but the one that stood out the most was deep affection.
"You still with me, Harry?" Ron asked while waving a hand in front of his face. Harry jumped back to the present and shifted in his chair.
"Sorry, I can't help it."
"I understand, Harry. But seriously, I need you to be a stranger to me for a few minutes."
Harry nodded, but he was visibly confused by what Ron just said.
"Hermione is my best friend, as well as my ex-girlfriend. We've been through everything together and I love her as a member of my family. I believe you when you say that you love her, but if you hurt her, I'll hunt you down and hex you until you beg for mercy."
"The last thing I want to do is hurt Hermione, Ron."
"I know that, but you're toeing the line right now, mate."
"Thanks for the heads up. Are you my friend again?"
"Yes. Why?"
"You'll never believe what Hermione's ex-boyfriend just said to me. He actually thinks he can hex me."
Ron laughed off Harry's attempt at a joke and punched him on the shoulder. "Asshole."
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The rest of the evening was pleasant. After supper, they went into what Ron was sure would eventually be a library and played chess for the majority of the evening. Harry almost beat him once, but only because Ron was trying out a new strategy for the first time.
They talked about Quidditch, and Ron tried to talk Harry into entering the free agent draft in the fall. Harry admitted that he missed playing competitively, but was unsure about being in the public eye again. He finally agreed to at least think about it, given that he would eventually have to find a job anyway.
Adult conversation was avoided the majority of the evening. No talk of the future was allowed, and the past was only discussed when it ended happily. Therefore, significant time was spent reminiscing about the many times the three of them had sent Draco back to the Slytherin table with his tail between his legs.
When Ron gathered his bag in the foyer the next morning, he did so with mixed emotions. The verbal assault on Harry Friday night was the worst he'd ever given. On the other hand, they were able to apologize to each other and spend the rest of the weekend in good spirits. He even had the opportunity to give his "protective ex-boyfriend/best friend" speech. He knew Harry took it seriously, even though he joked about it.
Harry met him at the door just before he left and put his arm around his shoulder. The smirk on his face was unmistakable. "So which comes first, Quidditch practice or a visit to Hermione's flat?"
"You think you're so smart, don't you? For your information, I have to go back to the Burrow and get my practice robes first. Depending on the time, I'll either stop at Hermione's before or after practice."
"Ha! I knew it. Well, could you do me a huge favor and give her this?" He pulled a rolled up piece of parchment out of his pocket and handed it to him. He had stayed up half the night writing down some of his thoughts, and he felt that sending it with Ron would add a personal touch.
"No problem, mate. Take care of yourself, and remember what I said. You both deserve some happiness, and I hope you can find it with each other."
Ron left then, Apparated back to the Burrow, and went directly up to his room. He was happy to see that the house was empty. He needed some quiet time to sort out his thoughts. His best friends were in love. With each other. Somehow he always knew it would end up this way. What he didn't count on, however, was being a mediator between them.