DISCLAIMER: Nothing here is mine,
except the excitement I felt while writing it.
Thanks J.K, for all the Weasleys (especially the ones discussed in the
following story), for our valiant Mr. Potter and for bushy-haired genius
Author’s note: I missed writing from
Harry’s POV, and though it’s not the one I enjoy the most, I was in need of
some Harry as a main character in my
stories. That just proves I do have a tremendous crush on himJ. This story is
about friendship, love, family, loyalty (sniff, sniff)… Just plain old guy talk… with spies and all.
Please read “Somebody Else” or you won’t understand some parts of it.
Matters of the heart (or
“Pass the bread, Ron,”
George Weasley said, pointing at the bread basket in front of Ron.
They were eating in the
Burrow’s garden, and in order to do so, they had spent the whole morning de-gnoming it. It had been of absolutely no help whatsoever,
because Harry could see the tiny gnomes creping back under the garden fence on
Ron didn’t seem to listen
what George had just said. He was chewing his food slowly and swallowing hard.
Harry suspected he wasn’t hungry at all. Maybe he was too busy thinking about
something else. Maybe he couldn’t think about food right now.
“Ron?” George said more
loudly than before.
Ron didn’t answer.
Fred, George, Ginny and
Harry exchanged expectant glances.
“EARTH TO RONALD
WEASLEY!” Ginny yelled with violence.
Ron almost died of shock.
He jumped as if woken suddenly from a dream. “Ginny, you don’t have to yell!”
he snapped back.
Ginny gave him an
exasperated look. “Ron, pass the bread, please,” George repeated.
“Sure, here,” replied
Ron, handing him the bread basket.
There was a tense silence
as, one by one, each of them understood what was happening. Well, except perhaps Mr. Weasley. Fred and George’s faces lit up,
and Harry and Ginny looked at each other, grinning.
“Ron, dear, are you ok?”
Mrs. Weasley asked, sounding really worried.
“He’s ok, Mum,” Fred
replied, with a sideways glance at Harry. Harry smiled mischievously. “Ickle Ronniekins it’s just a
“Shut up, Fred!” said
Mr. Weasley looked from
one to the other. “A little what, Fred?” he asked curiously. Ron shook his head
“Nothing, Dad, a little
tired, that’s all,” he said quickly.
“No,” Mr. Weasley
replied, “Fred said a little in-something.”
“In-tired, ” Ron replied,
“But, Ron, I think
in-tired is a nonexistent word, according to the English Dictionary,"
Percy said solemnly, but Harry noticed him winking at Fred.
“Yes,” Fred said, “a Head
Boy’s word is a true word. And besides, that wasn’t what I was going to say.”
Ron went terribly red.
“Then what were you going to say?” Ginny asked.
Harry was about to say
something, but held back. As much as he wanted to be part of this joke, he
could tell Ron was really embarrassed, and poor Ron was his friend. Of course,
he didn’t stand up for him, either.
“Okay, dears, that’s
enough,” Mrs. Weasley said, with a look that obviously meant or else. She had clearly understood what
this was all about. Ron gave her a thankful grin.
Mr. Weasley, on the other
hand, seemed to be completely lost on the subject, but decided to listen to his
“Mum, I’m done,” Ron
said, pushing his half-empty plate towards the center of the table.
Harry looked from the
plate to Ron and from Ron to the plate. This time he decided to speak. “Ron,
you hardly ate anything.” How ironic; he had just sounded like Hermione.
Ron looked at him
meaningfully, and Harry understood. “But I understand that you are not hungry,”
he said quickly, “I’m done too, Mrs. Weasley.”
“Well, you can leave,”
Mrs. Weasley said, picking their plates up and walking into the kitchen. “But
first, follow me.”
Ron and Harry looked at
each other and shrugged. They followed.
Mrs. Weasley placed their
plates on the sink, took out her wand and muttered, “Lavendus Inmediatum!” And sponge and water started to work quietly
Then she looked at the
boys, and smiled. “Well, we’ll have one more guest tomorrow, remember that,”
she said. Harry turned to look immediately at Ron, who had gone white. “I
expect you two will tidy Ron’s room a little, after all it’s your guest. You
don’t want her to see what a mess you
“But… Mum… she won’t
sleep in my room, will she?” Ron stuttered.
Mrs. Weasley laughed
quietly to herself. “Certainly not!” She looked at Harry, who smiled.
“What’s that supposed
to-” Ron started, but Harry cut him off.
“We will tidy Ron’s room,
Mrs. Weasley. Don’t worry.”
“Right then. Harry, will
you kindly wait outside?” she replied “I need to talk to my brilliant son
here.” She placed an arm over Ron’s shoulders.
Ron looked at her
Harry nodded, and left
the kitchen, but stopped at the other side of the door, hiding from view. He wanted to listen to this.
“Right, Ron,” he heard
Mrs. Weasley saying. “About her. Are
you sure you are ready for… her coming?”
Harry held back a fit of
Ginny came and stood by
him. “She’s talking to him about Hermione,” Harry explained, muttering.
“Oh,” Ginny replied
“Mum!” came Ron’s
exasperated voice from inside the kitchen. “She’s just Hermione.”
“Ha!” Ginny exclaimed,
loudly. Harry covered her mouth with his hand in reflex, and although he didn’t
see it, Harry suspected she was blushing, both for what she had done, and
because of the sudden contact with him.
“Dear, she was just Hermione two years ago. Now she is Hermione.”
Ginny’s giggles where
barely audible under Harry’s hand.
“Mum!” came Ron’s voice
“I was just saying… if
you want to talk about it…well… here I am.”
Harry then noticed that
all the remaining Weasleys were hiding at the other side of the door. He smiled. His hand was still clapped over Ginny’s
lips, and Percy was looking mischievously at him.
“Yeah, Mum. Thanks,” said
a probably-blushing Ron after a few seconds.
“Certainly,” replied Mrs.
Weasley. “Now go with Harry.”
It was as though a
rampaging Blast-Ended Skrewt was hurrying in their direction. Harry removed his
hand from Ginny’s mouth swiftly, and let her go, feeling a bit sorry. He was
beginning to enjoy it.
Fred, George, Percy,
Ginny and Mr. Weasley sat at the table and began
to talk as though there hadn’t been an interruption. Harry pretended to be
really interested in a painting of an old red-haired man hanging on the wall.
Ron came in from the
kitchen, still a bit red.
“C’mon, Harry,” he said
grimly, as he passed by.
The Weasleys stopped
chatting at once and turned their attention in Ron’s direction.
“What’s wrong with them?”
he muttered under his breath, starting to climb the stairs. With a last wink at
Ginny, Harry followed.
They needed to do a lot
of pushing in order to open Ron’s door, since there was a lot of stuff lying on
the floor and blocking the entrance.
“Bloody room,” Ron
whispered after they managed to get in. He was clearly in a terrible mood.
“Bloody, stupid nonsense.” He kicked a pair of shoes out of his way and threw himself onto the bed, covering his head with a
Pig started to make a
great deal of noise at the sight of them, and Ron sighed. “Stupid, tiny,
hyperactive, pig of an owl,” he said, his voice muffled under the pillow.
Harry sat at the foot of
the bed and sighed.
Neither of them spoke for
a long time. The only sound heard was Pig’s usual racket.
Then suddenly, Ron sat
bolt upright, the pillow falling to the floor. Harry wondered if there could be more things on the floor.
Adding the recently fallen pillow, it seemed as though it wasn’t a single free
space in it.
“Harry,” Ron said,
suddenly serious, “what’s wrong with me?”
That was the weirdest
question Harry had ever heard. How was he supposed to know what was wrong with
Ron? If Ron didn’t know, then who did?
But this thought quickly
fled. Actually, he did know what was
wrong with his friend. He just didn’t know how to explain it. And he didn’t
have to, because just then, Ron spoke again.
“I mean, it’s just so…weird.”
“Weird how?” Harry asked.
Maybe he would let Ron do all the explaining.
“I mean, it’s even… sick.”
“Yeah, it’s weird and sick.” Ron looked through the window
with a longing kind of expression.
“But what’s weird and sick?”
Harry asked, even though he knew perfectly well what Ron was talking about.
“This feeling I feel,”
There was silence again.
Harry was about to break
it, when Ron spoke again.
“I mean… don’t laugh
Harry, please… but…” he stopped and shook his head, “no, forget it. Damn!”
“C’mon Ron, you can tell
me,” Harry encouraged him.
Ron looked at him
suspiciously. “Promise me you won’t laugh at me.”
“Why would I?” Harry
“Well, it’s kind of
girlish, if you know what I mean.”
“I won’t laugh, I
“Well, I feel like there
are a bunch of butterflies flying around in my stomach.”
Butterflies? Harry snorted loudly,
and Ron glared at him. “I knew you would laugh.”
Harry wasn’t laughing,
but he could faintly hear giggles coming from outside the door. He smiled. Ron
didn’t seem to notice the noises, though.
“No, it’s just…” Harry
said, making something up fairly quickly, “I… I feel it too, sometimes.” This
wasn’t entirely a lie. He did feel like that. In fact he had just felt it, when
he and Ginny had been so close. He wondered
vaguely if that meant something. Surely it did, because he had felt it when he
first saw Cho.
Ron looked at him, his
eyes round and big. “You… you… you…” he stuttered, “you don’t like Hermione
too, do you?”
“No,” Harry said firmly.
He wasn’t a bit surprised about the question or the name in it. He expected it
would pop out sooner or later. “Don’t believe anything Rita Skeeter ever says.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot about
Cho,” he said.
“Cho?” Harry asked in reflex, then blushed. “Oh,
yes, Cho, sure.” He wasn’t going to tell Ron about his awakening feelings for
Ginny. And he surely wasn’t going to speak about it, when he half knew that all
the remaining Weasleys were listening to them now.
Ron glanced suspiciously
at him. “So, you were saying…” Harry continued quickly, avoiding Ron’s gaze,
“so what you feel about Hermione…”
“Who said Hermione?” Ron
asked suddenly, startling Harry a little.
I heard love is a disease. Well, it’s really starting to affect
“Ron, you just said… you
“Oh, right. Forgot about
that," he replied, flushing. “Well, it’s
weird and sick.”
“Because she’s my best
There was another
silence, and Harry could faintly hear hurried Shhhh’s from outside the room. Still, Ron didn’t notice.
“I know what you mean, Ron,”
Harry replied. “Well, not exactly. But Hermione is like a…sister to me. So I’ll tell you this. Don’t be afraid of telling her
how you feel. It’s not healthy to keep those feelings to yourself.”
Ron snorted. “Thanks, Dr.
Love,” he joked. Harry glared at him. “But your prescription has one little flaw… the person in question
likes somebody else.” Ron suddenly seemed to understand something, and his face
“You mean Krum?” Harry
“Yeah, Krum, right.” But
there was brightness in his voice again. “Thanks, Harry. I mean it.”
“Thanks for what?” Harry
“For… forget it.”
“Ron, Hermione doesn’t
“Sure, Harry, ” Ron
replied. He was obviously not paying any attention to him. “We need to tidy
this room, or she’ll see what a mess I am.”
Harry stared at him in
amazement, and then shrugged. At least he seemed to be happy.
He could hear footsteps
drawing away from the room. The crowd was dispersing outside.
He waited a while and
then spoke. “So that you know, I don’t like Cho anymore.”
“No?” Ron replied,
picking his chess pieces from the ground, and fighting a wrestling queen into
the chess box.
“No, I like somebody
Ron looked at him, his
face full of understanding.
“That’s okay, Harry. You
let me have your sister and I’ll let
you have mine . ”
They both laughed, not
noticing the tiny little gasp coming from outside the door.