Love Doesn't Only Stink, It Sucks Too---Chapter 8
It had been a month since Hermione had come back from her trip home. Harry took his third cold shower of the week. He laughed at how often he found himself frustrated after another session of uncontrolled snogging with Hermione. He wasn't sure how much longer this could go on before he'd have to demand that she put up or shut up. Suddenly, what seemed funny just seconds before seemed to go beyond frustrating.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a subject that could be harmful to their relationship. It was as if she'd gone off the deep end. He didn't know whether it was because she had been so frustrated by a lack of sexual attention from Ron, a lack of restraint because Harry himself was easy and loved it, or the disturbing part to Harry, she had an insatiable sexual appetite. He knew if another guy heard him list those reasons, whoever it was would take the Mickey out of him in a second for thinking it was even a problem. "Do her, Harry. She's gorgeous. She might dump you at anytime and she's probably a once in a lifetime experience. Don't wait and miss the chance." He hated himself for thinking that way. He loved her with every fiber of his being, but she was confusing him. Not to mention, that he felt he'd nearly lost control with her several times. He thought of it again and he realized that the frustration was growing toward the possibility of that fatal mistake. He wanted to think he'd be gentle with her, but he knew it might not be so as he got more frustrated. The final thing that gnawed at him was the question of control. He knew he was to blame for not being more assertive and taking charge to talk about it with her.
He stepped out on the mat in front of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror. The past few weeks working with Lupin, wrestling with Hermione and his new found love of jogging in the morning started to transform his body into a more athletic appearance than he'd thought possible. He knew it was the running and the physical aspects of training with Professor Lupin outside of DA periods that was responsible for it. Yet, wrestling with a 97-pound woman in various stages of undress was the most fun way to exercise. He laughed as he got dressed.
He looked around the hall on his way to the attic where he now lived in the dorm-style environment instead of Ron's room. It was quiet and he wasn't sleepy at all. He grabbed a his pair of beach flip-flops and a little thicker tee shirt than he'd normally wear during the day and slipped out down the stairs to go sit in the backyard.
The night air was pleasant. The light breeze caressed him. He took a deep breath and walked over to the picnic table. He turned his thoughts to the good things that had happened since those first tumultuous days when his life had changed. He smiled as he thought of his classmates and the little romantic dramas that always occurred among teenagers. Seamus had shed a bit of his tough guy image to get closer with Pavarti Patil and he thought that Seamus had stopped smoking because of her. Neville enjoyed talking with Ginny more and more. He could see that blossoming and most unusual was the friendship kindling between Ron and Luna.
He had always thought Luna was much more intuitive than others gave her credit for being. She would spend time talking with Harry and Hermione, but it seemed she would drift away just at the time the two of them wanted to be alone. She seemed to just ease into conversation with Ron when he was sitting alone and appeared gloomy. On that note, he was glad for Ron that the gloomy moods were becoming a far less frequent occurrence. Maybe that was because Luna had become a friend that accepted him as he was. She certainly wasn't a girl that put sexual pressure on him.
He was glad for the temperament of the elder Weasleys. They showed great restraint by allowing the social interactions to develop without panicking about teen love or worrying about things getting out of control. It seemed to Harry that most of these budding relationships were going at a pace he wished that he and Hermione had experienced.
He took another deep breath and wondered what it would have been like if his mind hadn't been so focused on Voldemort during his earlier teenage years. He might have noticed Hermione in a different way much sooner. Maybe things would have been different between him and Cho. He realized that wondering about what might have been was an exercise in futility. Things were the way they were.
His thoughts turned to his training. No one except Hermione saw the background training Harry was getting for his confrontation with Voldemort. It seems that Professor Lupin was quite adept at several forms of muggle martial arts as well. He'd found out that his Father had always admired Lupin for his acrobatic agility and grace. Harry found it sad that so many transformations and injuries while transformed had slowed the Professor and ravaged the strength that he might now have. Harry was by no means becoming an adept martial artist but he found the training in the martial arts the best way to improve his concentration and stamina.
He felt thirsty so he crept up the short set of steps into the kitchen opened the fridge and took out the pitcher of fresh pumpkin juice, filled his glass and went back to the table. He couldn't believe how nice it was to be alone with his thoughts. There were always so many people around and while he loved Hermione, he always felt compelled to be "on" while with her around. He knew that was his problem and not any demand she put on him. He needed to make a few subtle changes in his way of thinking and be more aware of himself like Parvati and Padma had suggested with their Uncle's saying. He was trying to hard to be all things to all people and not getting his own house in order.
He laid back on the bench and looked up at the stars. For some reason, looking at them had taken on a special significance to him. Maybe it was that eerie feeling about what it meant to go "beyond the veil" as Luna had put it concerning Sirius and now most certainly Dumbledore. Were they looking down on him from the heavens and helping him? Were they directing a sort of ballet that allowed these wonderful people he had around him to walk in and out of his life just when he needed their particular type of encouragement or discipline most? He didn't know, but…he drifted off to sleep without realizing it and started to dream.
The images were surreal. He looked down on his life, watching as he interacted with people. It seemed that he could hear a running commentary from an unseen person setting each scene. There he was with Hermione the first time they kissed and there he was sitting with Lupin discussing his Father and how things were when they were young. The scenes flashed quickly at times and slowly at others.
The dream became more restless though as visions of The Department of Mysteries and the Battle at Hogwarts played in his mind. The commotion around him suddenly seemed to take him back to the moment when Sirius took a blast of energy to his chest, falling back and disappearing through the veil. Without warning, the images changed to Dumbledore and his conversation with Malfoy. Harry noticed the terrified look on Malfoy's face. There seemed to be a moment of recognition he'd not seen in the heat of the moment. Tragically, the next moment the commentary stopped and the face of Severus Snape appeared holding his wand at chest level pointed at Dumbledore. He could hear Dumbledore clearly in his mind's eye. "Severus, please." The blast of green light and….what was it he saw… a look of anguish on the faces of Snape and Malfoy as Dumbledore's limp and lifeless body was jolted over the gunnels of the castle wall.
Harry startled himself as he rolled off the bench and on to the hard ground a foot or two below. He crawled back up on the bench dusting himself off. He tried to remember every image from the past few seconds but they were passing out of memory fast the more awake he felt. He felt the chills run up his spine and saw the Goosebumps on his arms. He hated Severus Snape with every breath he took. He had murdered his mentor in cold-blood that night two months ago. The conflict in Harry's mind confused him now. Was their really a moment when Snape appeared to loathe his actions? Harry couldn't understand how he of all people could find the vaguest of hopes in the redemption of Snape or even begin to confuse what he saw. His concentration was broken by a voice.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing out here at this hour?" said Hermione who was wearing a tee shirt and shorts with no shoes.
"Ah, I just like the night air. And I suppose the peace and quiet too," he replied idly. He was still thinking of the dream.
"Do you want me to go in and leave you alone?' she asked softly.
The way she said it touched him. "Thanks for being so considerate. Please, come here." He held out his arm and guided her onto his lap.
His thoughts shifted to talking about how out of control he felt in their latest encounters. "Do you know how comfortable sitting with you just like this is?" He remarked.
"Is it really? I'm not too heavy," she replied looking very tired.
"No, you're light as a feather," he was surprised how true that was in relative terms compared to times when they were wrestling each other on the ground jockeying for the best position to drive the other mad with desire.
"You're lying. I can't be that light," she said.
He smiled. "There is a point here that I want to bring up and it may sound silly."
"What's that, love?" she responded.
"Sometimes, I like being with you like this a lot better than when we're acting like wild animals in heat." There he thought. It may not have come out in the best way, but it will at least get the discussion rolling.
Hermione looked shocked and in a way a little hurt. "What are you talking about? You'd better explain that."
"I mean it always ends up with both of us wanting what we don't want," he said. "How's that for ironic? We drive ourselves mad with lust to the point we want to bang each other's brains out and then stop. Then we rinse and repeat."
"And you find this more enjoyable?" she asked confusedly.
"Maybe not in the erotic sense where every nerve in your body is on alert, but from the comfort side of things yes," he said honestly. "I don't want to stop that all together," he said laughing then pausing for a second. "Hell no, I love being in the throes of passion. I just think we miss this kind of intimacy when we go so far so often."
"Harry, I just love feeling your body next to mine and this is wonderful. I always thought that a guy liked to push it to the limit, so-to-speak," she declared. "I don't want you to think I'm some sort of teasing tramp. Oh my God, that's what you think, isn't it?"
Harry realized that it was a good thing that he took a little chance to talk about this. He'd been way too passive in letting her call the shots. "Sweetheart, sitting just as we are my hand is brushing the most delicate, wonderfully smooth skin I have ever touched. It's erotic in its own way. I just don't feel like I need sexual healing every two seconds, to put it one way."
She was red in embarrassment. "Harry, I would do anything to please you. I mean that, anything. You haven't asked so I haven't had to decide. But it would only be to please you, not because I want to rush into sex. I really do want to take it slower, but I've found that if I get excited I get carried away too. I never knew that about myself until we've been together."
"What about when you said you might be the one to ask me? That sounded a bit forward. It was funny at the time and I stand by the idea that if you asked, my standing answer is yes, but I want to know why you said it. Please tell me?" he asked.
"Oh my God, I'd forgotten I'd said that. I was playing and at the time probably meant it just the way it sounded. There have been so many times I was on the edge of … well, you know…," she stopped and put Harry's hand in hers. "I've been pretty foolish, Harry. I think both of us have been a little too eager to please the other."
"How so?" asked Harry.
"We used to talk about everything. The problem was everything didn't include how to make each other happy. We did that by just being together. Now, I think we feel we have to do something for the other to make them happy," she said pausing to see if Harry followed.
"Ah, you mean like me, when I rarely say no to things you want to do. I know you have seen that I was doing some of them only because you wanted to, but that was okay. It wasn't like you were asking me to donate a kidney. Yet in the past I would have politely declined and done something else," he said. "Is that what you mean?"
"Yeah, that's a good example. You need to just ask me how important something is. If it's not, I'll tell you and you can decide. If it is, I'll say so. I don't want to be the one in charge in this relationship, Harry. We should share in that," she said more comfortably. She giggled.
"What are you giggling about?" he asked.
"I acted like such a skank sometimes. Okay, maybe not that bad. But I thought I was being sexy and it was probably way over the top," she said. "I'm embarrassed, Harry."
"You hit the nail on the head when you said we should have fun. Playful and erotic go together. We proved that. I like it. But I like roast chicken too, yet I don't want it all the time," he smiled. "Heh, that was a horrible analogy."
"Harry, I swear, what this thing you have for food lately?" she asked poking him in the stomach.
Since he'd started running his already enormous appetite for someone his size had probably doubled. The subject changed several times as they laughed and joked. They only moved to change positions to get comfortable straddling the bench to face one another as they talked. The intensity picked up when Harry mentioned the dream.
"Hermione, I had one of my dreams tonight," he said in the tone that could only refer to Lord Voldemort.
"And, I suppose you weren't going to tell me?" she said questioningly.
"No, I probably wasn't," he answered truthfully. "It was weird. I saw expressions on people's faces-specifically Snape, Malfoy and Professor Dumbledore-that shook me."
"Harry, go on. When you talk about other things you describe them. When you talk about this, you make me ask questions until I'm blue in the face," she pleaded.
"Sorry, I was just trying to see them again." He paused. "Anyway, I've seen the expression on Snape's face many times. I don't know how to describe his face, but the expression usually came when he had to do something he hated. "You know, like congratulate me on a good game in Quidditch or when you handed in the best potion. Why would he have that expression when he's zapping Dumbledore with the Killing Curse?"
"Harry, you said something like that back then too. You also said that Malfoy wimped out and could have done something to Dumbledore but didn't. You said you saw an expression on his face too?" she asked.
"It was like a play tonight. You know how you choreograph where everyone will stand and how they will move. My dream was like that. It moved from face to face and action to action as if I were supposed to figure something out," he said. "It had me a little freaked out earlier, but now it's really giving me the chills."
"I can feel it, Harry. You have Goosebumps," said Hermione holding his hand. "You should talk to someone. Probably, Lupin, I would guess."
"You're right," said Harry. "First thing, I'll go I see him."
Silence filled the air for the moment until Harry yawned. "Do you have any idea what time it is? I don't."
"Harry, I came out at like half past two, so it's got to be like four o'clock," she said yawning as well.
"Good night, sweetheart, I'm going to try to get some sleep," he swung his leg over the bench helped her do the same and gave her soft kiss. "This was nice. I hope I don't forget that dream though. I want to talk to Lupin about it."
Hermione nodded her agreement and whispered, "Good night, sweetheart," as she ran barefoot ahead of him back into the house.
_____________ ____________
"Harry, wake up, mate. It's nearly ten o'clock," said Dean leaning over Harry's bed. "Professor Lupin is looking for you."
Harry couldn't believe it. He couldn't enjoy it at the moment because he was hurrying to get downstairs but he had slept well. He remembered the dream instantly as Dean mentioned the Professor. Hermione smiled at him from the sofa in the parlor as Harry dashed through toward the little area reserved for teaching the DA. Professor Lupin was gracious as always with Harry. "So, a bit of a sleep in? No jogging this morning?" he smiled. "You weren't up with the Misses all night were you?"
Harry hated that expression. All the blokes started referring to Hermione as the `Misses' when she was out of earshot. He wondered if she knew. He also wondered if they were picking on him because he'd been acting so pussy-whipped. No matter, he thought. "Yeah, but it was different. I had a dream about Snape last night, Professor," he said in a muffled tone.
The Professor motioned for Harry to take a walk with him. Harry explained his dream in as vivid detail as he could remember. He left out the assumptions he'd made to see if Professor Lupin came to the same conclusions.
"Harry, Professor Dumbledore was a strong man and would not have begged for his life," said Lupin. "No power on earth could make him do that."
Harry felt a bit of sadness that he would have to remind Professor Lupin that he'd seen that very thing happen in the cave. There was something terrible enough to frighten Dumbledore to plead for his life. He recounted the scene in the cave.
"I know that you see those as the same things, Harry. They are not. One, the poison, had control of his mind and body as he was forced to drink it. The effects of the poison were to horrify and kill the drinker over time. The other, a flesh and bone human wizard, would not intimidate a wizard as great as Dumbledore. Trust me. I know this to be true.
Lupin continued. "I think he was asking Severus to do something for him in those last moments and for whatever reason."
Tears came to Harry's eyes as fresh as those that burned there that night. The picture of his dear mentor burned into his memory still. "Why did the bastard kill him, Professor?"
"Harry, I have spent the better part of two months trying to get close enough to people who may know the answer to that question. The answer to the question may be plain since there is no one who can answer it." Remus said rather ominously.
"I've lost you," said Harry trying to rid the tears from his eyes without looking like a baby.
"I have never questioned Professor Dumbledore's trust in Severus, Harry. And this bit of news restores it," he said. "It may be that there were promises made that sealed their fates at that very moment. Have you heard of an Unbreakable Vow, Harry?"
"Yes, the maker of the vow is bound to complete their promise on penalty of death," said Harry.
"Yes, that's right. No one knows what kept Severus working for Dumbledore as a double-agent for the Dark Lord Harry. Maybe there was a vow involved there, or elsewhere, but I'm guessing that the Unbreakable Vow included that if there were ever a point where Severus would be exposed as a traitor to Voldemort, Dumbledore made Severus promise that one, you would be safe; and, two, that Professor Dumbledore's life was expendable."
"That sounds horrible Professor. It sounds like Professor Dumbledore may have planned his own death," said Harry picking up on the implications of that night.
Professor Lupin continued, "If Snape wanted to kill you at the gate when you chased him why did he give you pointers on how to fight? To this day, you struggle with speechless charms. He warned you. Why?"
Harry's mind was speeding like a roller coaster trying to prove Professor Lupin wrong, but he couldn't. He knew it wasn't true but he blurted, "He just wanted to gloat. That's all it was. He was gloating."
Remus smiled. "A man like Severus Snape has no need to gloat over a schoolboy chasing him with his wand. The demonstrations of magic that I have done only reflect a portion of the power Snape can command."
That news hit Harry like a ton of bricks. "Why do you think he hated all four of us, Harry? His knowledge of the Dark Arts at the age of seventeen required that the four of us gang up on him to be safe if we pushed him too far. The single time that wasn't true was when I had transformed. In that state, he would have been no match."
Harry didn't like the sound of what he was hearing. "Are you telling me that Snape may be the most powerful wizard left alive other than Lord Voldemort?"
"Maybe not the singularly most powerful, but one of them Harry," explained the Professor. "I think Dumbledore knew he was dying from the poison and would not survive. So he asked Snape to do his duty to protect his value as an agent for the Death Eaters."
"Please tell me how that works? I mean if Snape is so powerful he simply kills all of the people who could report what was happening there, stages his own escape and tells Voldemort that news," said Harry.
"You're assuming that Snape knew everyone who was there or that he was part of the original plan to attack the castle. If you and Professor Dumbledore had successful gotten to Snape without being seen, I think Snape would have cured the Professor and not killed him, in spite of the attack," offered Lupin. "Also, no wizard including Professor Dumbledore could have held ten or twelve adult wizards at bay long enough to kill each one if he were the sole target, not even Voldemort, Harry. That is if they were of a single mind to kill, we'll talk about what I mean by that some other time."
"So, why didn't someone take a group of wizards after him before he got so powerful and just kill the bastard," said Harry in frustration. "My Mother, Father, Cedric, Sirius, and countless others would still be alive or their fates might have been different."
Harry felt the old hostility returning. He had become docile with Hermione in his life. He wouldn't trade that for anything but he had to find a way to balance it this time. Before, he must have subconsciously known Ginny wasn't his future, but he knew Hermione was his present and his future.
"Harry, intensity is a good thing but rage will blind you. Didn't you see how anger affected you and Ron when you let it get the best of you? You may not have thought of it that way, but that's what happened. There was a simple answer. You should have let Hermione choose which she did and would have done anyway," said Remus. "I know hind sight is 20-20, Harry, but don't forget that lesson."
Harry thought of that day, his intentions and how things actually happened. He was right. No matter how he wanted to remember the events, the name-calling and anger Harry engaged in blinded him to reality. Ron was already beaten down and depressed. He just humiliated him on top of it. Harry sighed and realized that maybe it was time for a face to face apology.
"Professor, on that subject, I feel horrible for how I handled things with Ron. How do you contain your anger when you don't want it to flare unexpectedly, but someone knows how to push your buttons?" asked Harry.
"I suspect you mean that any angry words about Hermione might make you angry again. Or, maybe you mean something different. I think I understand the question. Harry, do you remember the lessons we've been doing that focus on concentration?"
"Yes," said Harry wondering where he was going with this.
"Tai Chi is a deadly form of martial arts when used for that purpose, but its origin is in flowing with nature and ignoring anything that contradicts it. If your purpose is to heal your friendship or make amends and you concentrate on it as the sole purpose for being alive in that moment, nothing will stop you from achieving your purpose but the will of the force you're trying to change. Does that make sense?"
"I guess, but I really would rather hear what you mean so I'm not confused," said Harry sheepishly hating to admit that part of it was lost on him.
"I'm saying that if you have no other purpose than to express your sorrow or sadness at acting the way you did, the only way Ron can hope to stop you is to refuse to see the honesty and heartfelt feelings of regret every single time you express them. Theoretically, you will never change your tone or allow you focus to change, he will never succeed. He will be overcome by your resolve," said Remus. "Christianity preaches turn the other cheek until it kills you if you take it to the extreme. That's what you have to do. If you think there are still reasons that he is wrong, then don't apologize because the power you need to defeat his negative energy is not there."
"So, what I said when I went there was pretty much right, but I didn't execute it. I let my guard down and defended myself anyway even though I wanted him to know I was still his friend," said Harry.
"Only you know the specifics of what happened Harry, but if that's what happened, then yes. I know this mysticism sounds like a load of crap in every day life, but when you face Voldemort you cannot let him control you. You have to be resolute with no other purpose than to destroy him. The deaths of friends, family, or even the love of your life will have to be secondary to that purpose. You have to be ready to let the world be on fire around you while you continue on your path to your goal; pain and suffering must be put aside you cannot give in to any of it. That is why a team of wizards has not been able to do what you suggest. Voldemort has learned that singularity of purpose in the form of hatred and to a great degree, so has Professor Snape. I have not mastered what I must to succeed, yet I strive to do it to help you, Harry."
"Ah, Professor, if I suck at Occlumency and everything else that requires this focus or concentration you speak of, how am I going to survive?" asked Harry nervously.
"You don't lack it Harry. You display it everyday with your friends. You never stop loving them or defending them. You run headlong into battles you cannot possibly win and come out smelling like a rose, why is that?" asked Lupin.
"You have faced Voldemort countless more times than most who have tried and lived to tell the tale. To be sure, you haven't defeated him but he has not finished you either. Your love for people summons great power, Harry. You're not a superman, I'm not trying to say that at all. We are all bestowed with gifts Harry. Mine is communicating with people. Hermione's is great intellect coupled with wisdom beyond her years. Ron's is loyalty and compassion. Even Seamus Finnegan, who is the one who told me what went on here before I arrived, has a great gift of communication and loyalty. Miss Lovegood embodies simplicity and kindness to a fault. You are all here for these reasons, Harry. Each of you was handpicked for qualities that are innate and as natural to you as the air we breathe. You just happen to be the one that has the power that `the Dark Lord knows not'. The brother and sister to hate is love. He has no capacity for love Harry."
Harry felt humbled at that moment. He felt humbled that he had not recognized these traits in his classmates and realized that they were special. His aptitude for dark magic may be flashier, but theirs were just as important in life and were examples to him to guide him.
"Harry? Are you still with me?" asked Lupin.
"Yes sir, I'm just overwhelmed with thoughts about what you're saying," said Harry.
"I was going to let everyone else have the day off and spend time you, but I think this is more than enough food for thought until this evening's session," said Professor Lupin. "Remember, Ron can't deny your apology if you don't let anything distract you from giving it. He may not accept it, but he can't draw you into an argument if you follow my advice."
Harry thought of going back to tell Hermione what he found out, but he knew that this was the time to go to Ron. To be a man of compassion and power with no axe to grind he had to focus on the love he had for his friend and nothing else.
Ron was in his room with Dean and they were talking about Quidditch. It seemed that Dean knew to leave the moment Harry appeared at the door. It was probably because Harry had come no closer to the door than this since that day a month before. "Ron, do you have a minute?"
"I was talking with Dean, but I suppose I do," he said.
"Ron, I owe you an apology. It is my fault for the things that happened, or at least partially my fault. I can only apologize for my part. I swear to you as sure as I'm standing here that I did not intend to make you miserable or to be disloyal," said Harry.
"I hear you Harry, Seamus said all that for you already. This isn't new news," said Ron. "I just wish I could believe you." He didn't answer angrily or sarcastically, but very simply and honestly. "I never saw it coming. That part I agree about. I was stupid in that regard, but you two knew better. I was the weak link and I feel that she just ignored me since she had you to pick up the pieces."
"Ron, I can't speak for Hermione. You're like my brother, mate. I may be okay without that support in my life, but I'm better off with you in my corner," said Harry.
"Haven't you noticed, Harry? I support you. I don't hate you, Harry. I just can't trust you to be in my personal life again," said Ron. "The same goes for Hermione."
Somehow Harry knew he had to let Ron have his say regardless how much it hurt to hear of the lost trust.
"I will never let anything hurt you guys, but don't expect me to be close to you like I was before," explained Ron. "I'm not sure how to fill the gap you two left in my life either, Harry. It sort of pisses me off. Part of it is my fault, because you warned me to just end it with her. But I was hard headed and thought I could handle it like a big strong man. But a 97-pound woman brought me to the edge of insanity."
"Ron, it was love. It was what makes us special to each other. I mean all three of us now, not just you and her. I mean you and me, as well as her and me. We all wanted it to be great, your relationship together I mean, but somehow we had something special and didn't know it. You wanted something and it wasn't the way you thought it was going to be. That's what happens when there is a difference in what we expect and what we get. You either deal with it or get hurt. We all lost something. I lost my self-respect and I am just now realizing it. I should have apologized long before now, mate. That's my mistake."
"Ron looked Harry in the eye for the first time. Mate, seeing you two still makes me crazy. You two look like an exotic postcard together and she and I looked like a brochure for marriage counseling," he smiled a bit. "That's how I keep from being angry. I see that picture and the reality in that analogy and I have to laugh inside. I realize now that it was a bad mix for her and I. But that doesn't stop me from feeling the hurt. I don't know why when I was so close to ending it anyway."
"Seamus told me he thought that maybe you kept hoping that one day you and she would have the same thing she and I did, it was a subconscious thing, of course. You waited everyday to see it. Then it depressed you to see it wasn't the same. I mean this started right after you started dating. Eventually, you gave up trying but you were still in love. You were hurting but didn't know why, because you didn't want to see us like that. And now, I don't blame you. I know that would have sucked for me too." Harry said. "Your life must have been hell and I am sorry if I hurt you, brother. I mean that will all my heart. I must sound like a nut. I said it once already and I'll say it again. Blokes don't tell blokes they love them, but Ron for what it's worth….I love you, mate. That's all I can say."
Harry put his hand on his friends shoulder, turned and walked out closing the door. He had gotten down the hall toward the attic when the door opened and Ron stuck his head out. "Hey Harry, thanks for that. Suppose that goes for me too." He pulled his head back in and shut the door.
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