As he handed the bottle to his best friend Ron took stock of the change that had taken place in Harry since he had last seen him. It wasn't the size of Harry's smile that had been on his face from the moment that Ron had arrived back in the common room, it was the duration of the smile that struck him.
Although they had shared many fun times in the six years Ron had known Harry, there had always been a hint of hesitancy, an air of unfinished business to his facial expressions. No matter how big his smiles had been, they would fade all too quickly as he could see Harry's thoughts turning back to the tortures of his past and his responsibilities in the future. For every happy action, there seemed to be a greater depressing reaction that would always follow. Harry's joy and excitement at winning the Tri-Wizard tournament lasted for mere seconds as he was subjected to god-knows-what torture at the hands of Voldemort. Harry had never revealed what truly happened during their confrontation, all Ron knew was Voldemort had risen again thanks to Harry's blood and Harry had to watch Cedric Diggory die. This limited amount of knowledge was enough for Ron. He didn't need to know the gruesome details. He suspected the reality would far exceed anything he could imagine in his head.
Ever since that day Ron had two unspoken questions that ran through his mind repeatedly. "Why does he do it? Why does he go on?" He was Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived, but the Boy-Who-Never-Gave-Up. He wasn't a folk-lore legend to be revered in wizarding books, but a flesh and blood person who chose to meet adversity head-on time and time again, for everyone else's benefit. But why did he keep on with the fight when virtually everyone else would have given up under similar circumstances?
Ron had never felt as guilty as he did that summer after their fourth-year. "How could I ever accuse him of putting his name in the Goblet? How could I tell him he wanted to be the center of attention?" His resentment of Harry's popularity and fortune shamed Ron. To be fair Ron's behavior was not out of character for any fourteen-year old boy and his flashes of anger had always been brief. Any jealousy he had ever shown toward Harry, however, disappeared over that summer.
He remembered the night that summer when all his jealousy was permanently washed away. His mind flashed to Cedric Diggory's family. Based on what he had seen of Cedric and his parents it was quite clear that lack of money was not a major concern in their life. They weren't the richest wizarding family by any means but they were certainly comfortable financially. He thought of Cedric's parents who were probably lying in their bed attempting to go to sleep just like he was. It was a certainty that the bed they slept in was much nicer than his and the bedroom they occupied was much more expensively decorated. It was equally as certain that they would gladly give away those possessions and all others to have their son back. "Money isn't a comfort," he remembered thinking, "family and friends are."
He knew Harry would have gladly traded his new robes for Ron's hand me downs because it would mean that Harry had brothers that the robes would have been handed down from. It was at that point a decision was made and Ron Weasley gained yet another sibling. "He does have at least one brother and it's me. It's time I bloody well started acting like it all the time, not just when it suits me." And so began Harry's official adoption into the Weasley family.
While handing off the bottle, Ron noticed the close proximity of Harry and Hermione and the hand-holding that was taking place. He made a mental note to ask Harry about it later and then spoke. "Harry, I can't believe you thought that was funny. I was expecting your face to be as red as mine. And what about those comments? Did you suddenly develop a sense of humor while you were gone?"
"Very funny Ron, very funny."
Their conversation was interrupted by Prefect Hermione Granger as she stood up to set the ground rules for the evening to her fellow students as they all made a mad dash to the food and most especially, the drinks.
"Hang on everyone, hang on. Before I lose complete control I have some bad news for you fifth-years. I'm afraid your drinking is going to be limited to the butterbeer that was brought back. No ale."
As expected the news garnered an enthusiastic response. Not positive but enthusiastic nonetheless. As the angry fifth-years all began talking at once to Hermione she waved them off and continued. "I have no choice. Dumbledore and McGonagall know about the party and made it clear that no one under sixth-year should drink the ale."
At this point Hermione attempted to reason with the angry mob. "Besides you don't need alcohol to have fun…right?"
These words were clearly a mistake. Colin Creevy voiced the thoughts of every one of his fellow fifth-years. "Does that mean you won't be drinking any either then? Seeing as how easy it is to have a good time without it?"
There was no doubt in her mind that she would most definitely be enjoying the ale that night but she could think of nothing to counter Colin's argument. Fortunately Ron came to her defense…sort of.
"Colin my boy, it is painfully obvious you have not spent very much time with Hermione. If you had you would know that it is extremely difficult for her to have a good time, under any circumstance."
He then picked up a bottle, pulled off the cap and handed it to Hermione. "The drinking of ale is an absolute requirement for her if we even want her to crack a smile tonight. Oh yeah. There is one other reason why she'll be drinking and you won't. SHE'S A BLOODY SIXTH-YEAR AND YOU'RE NOT. She doesn't have to give you a reason. So enjoy your butterbeer."
"Bugger off, Ron," he heard from his extremely disgusted sister as she grabbed a butterbeer and sat down.
As the battle ended Ron turned his eyes to Hermione with a self-satisfied smile. "Before you say anything, there is no need to thank me, Hermione. I was happy I could help."
"Don't worry. Ron. I'm not in any hurry to thank you for that drivel. How is it that even when you help you're still able to end up insulting me?"
"We all have our own unique talents, Hermione. You for example, are good at academics. Harry here excels at Quidditch. I on the other hand, have the unique ability to get under your skin without having you resort to violence…yet. I am merely using the talents I have been given for the greater good."
Hermione responded as a smile grew on her face. "Are you saying this for anyone's benefit besides yourself? I've never seen anyone take so much pleasure in hearing the sound of their own voice, Ron."
Harry sat and watched his two best friends go through their daily routine of fighting amongst each other. It was as normal for them to bicker as it was to brush their teeth in the morning. Both seemed to enjoy themselves, as long as it was done in small doses. This was made abundantly clear by the disastrous few weeks Ron and Hermione "dated" at the beginning of fifth year. Harry shuddered to himself as he thought of the near constant battles that raged during those tumultuous weeks. He never was told which one initiated the break-up. It was his guess that it was a mutually agreed upon decision, probably the only thing they agreed on during those weeks, that they should go back to being friends. Honestly, he didn't care who initiated the breakup, just that the breakup occurred. The little fact that he was realizing he was in love with Hermione at the time also made him very pleased that their romantic relationship ended.
As he began to stand up and end their sparring session he looked down at the bottle in his hands. The label looked familiar but he couldn't quite remember why. And then it hit him. He could hardly contain his laughter as he put the bottle down and began to walk over to the steps leading to his room.
"Hermione, do you think you could help me upstairs?"
If Harry had been looking for the quickest way to end Ron and Hermione's argument he had most definitely found it. Hermione stopped herself mid-sentence and immediately started walking toward Harry. "Certainly, Harry."
Unfortunately she responded a little too quickly to Harry's request, an action that Ron immediately picked up on. "You two make sure you lock the door once you get up there. Wouldn't want anyone interrupting Hermione's help would we?"
Hermione wheeled around to face Ron and shot back. "Very funny, Ron. You know perfectly well that Harry needs help with his leg."
The opportunity was too delicious to pass up. He knew he should let it go but it was rare that such a chance to embarrass Hermione and Harry at the same time came up. Ron could not have stopped the words from coming out of his mouth if he tried.
"And just which leg would that be, Hermione?"
Hermione, clearly not grasping Ron's innuendo, innocently answered. "Ron, what are you on about? It's obvious that he needs help because of his right leg." She could not figure out why everyone else seemed to be chuckling. Harry filled in the blanks for her.
"Umm…Hermione. I don't think he means that leg," Harry said as he pointed to his injury. His finger then drifted to the area between his legs. "I think he's referring to that leg. You know, the third leg."
Hermione's face went scarlet as the realization of what Ron meant hit her. She was truly at a loss words as her mouth opened in shock. She was broken out of her confused thoughts as Harry's arm wrapped around her waist and he leaned over to whisper in her ear. Suddenly an entirely different batch of confused thoughts entered her consciousness.
"Don't worry Hermione, let me handle this."
Without thinking she whispered a quick response. "You can handle anything you want, Harry."
Harry was surprised at her words but he quickly regained his composure as he smiled and quietly answered her. "I'm going to remember you said that, Hermione."
He then turned his attention to Ron. "Now Ronnie, don't get your knickers in a knot. You know I only have eyes for you."
Now it was Ron's turn to have his face change colors. "That's not funny, Harry. Cut that out."
Harry smiled at Ron, as if enchanted by his words. "Okay Ronnie, you win. You know I could never say no to you."
"Stop it Harry! That is not funny!"
Harry's enchanted smile suddenly turned wicked as the sounds of laughter grew. "You could have fooled me Ron. I think you're the only one who doesn't think it's funny."
Harry then turned back to Hermione, who was now laughing as well, and extended his hand. "Shall we?"
"Definitely…we'll be right back Ron. I promise I'll keep my hands off of him."
"Hermione that is not funny! You stop right-"
Ron then realized he was fighting a losing battle. "Fine, you win. Please, I'm begging you two to go upstairs."
Hermione had never gotten the upper-hand so convincingly against Ron and she let out a giggle as they ascended the stairs.
"See you in a bit, Ronniekins!"
The actions of his best friend since he had returned started sinking in to Ron. The jokes Harry had been making, his affection toward Hermione, the smiles that were no longer replaced with nervous preoccupied stares. Harry was a new person. He had gotten his greatest wish. Harry was allowing himself to be…Harry
Ron finally had the answer to the questions he'd asked himself about Harry for so long. Why did he do it? Why did he go on? He did it so one day he could be at a party with his friends. He did it so one day he could trade good-natured insults with his best mate. He did it so one day he could hold the love of his life's hand and sit with her on a couch. He did it so he could live.
Ron hoped no one could see the small tears now welling up in his eyes. "It's nice to finally meet you Harry," he said as the pair disappeared up the steps.