So, I wrote this story years ago and I guess I never finished it. So, I'm here to finish it out. And, I'm going to edit the chapters that are already done. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Where it began

Harry sat in his home, reading a book about Quidditch that Remus Lupin had given him for his birthday a few months back. It was silent, and Harry appreciated this. He had learned to enjoy silence when Voldemort was defeated.

He looked out the window and saw the wind blow leaves down the street. It was four in the afternoon, yet it seemed much later due to the darkness outside.

He nearly jumped out of his seat at the yelp coming from the fire. Mrs. Weasley's face appeared in the flames.

"Harry! Harry, come quick! It's happened! Ron – he was…he was here…and then – and it happened! Harry, come quickly! Ginny isn't taking this well!"

Harry didn't have time to think. He jumped up and Apparated to St. Mungo's.

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(Change in POV)

In order for you to understand what happens next, I must take you to the past. I must take you to where it started. You see, we've known each other for nine years now. But, like many others, that isn't where our story started. It took us just shy of seven years to start our story. I will start there. I will start the story where it began.

We fought a lot at first. I presume this is because of the simple fact of us loving one another and not having the courage to say it. But, then again, it might not have been that. Put yourself in our shoes for a moment: Two men side by side almost every day for nearly a year, fighting in an impossible war. We were bound to fight, right? That's when it started. That's when our story began.

But first you must recognize why I'm taking you back. Not many people understood our relationship. Thankfully, my family accepted us without a question. Harry once explained to me that as a Muggle, being the way we were, we would have gotten dirty looks. What he never knew was that, as a Magical-Folk, it didn't stop at not being accepted. It was just plain disgusting.

And before you jump to conclusions, you must comprehend that we weren't gay. We weren't straight either, I guess. The many nights I spent alone and angry at him, I tried to picture myself with another man. I disgusted myself beyond belief. The thought of sleeping with a man made me sick to my stomach. Knowing this, I forced myself sleep with women. I wasn't as sickened, but I was never in it. But I swear, I could use all my strength in one night just thinking about Harry.

We weren't gay. But we weren't straight. I wanted him and only him. He once told me the same thing. In any case, we were forced apart. No true love story is happy. With that in mind, I accepted it and I would get up every day in hopes that someday, somehow, we would be reunited. But no true love story is happy. And so I will start from the beginning; from the beginning of our story, because it isn't over yet. I'm certain of it. I, Ronald Weasley, swear to keep our story going.

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(Back to 3rd person POV)

A little over two years ago:

"Harry you bloody prick! I can't even believe you! Why'd you just do that!" Ron screamed when Harry Apparated next to him. He pushed Harry against a tree. Harry ignored the rain pouring all around them and pushed Ron back, making him stumble and fall back into the mud.

"Don't get me started," Harry growled. Ron took a deep breath and when he let it out, Harry swore he could see steam rise from his ears. Ron lifted himself up and punched Harry in the face.

"We are in this together! You could've been hurt! TWICE!" The image of Harry pushing Ron out of the way of the Killing Curse and then almost getting crumbled underneath the abnormally large tree that the curse ended up hitting, was circling Ron's mind. Harry hauled himself off of the ground where he'd fallen in a heap and lunged himself at Ron, punching him square in the nose, almost knocking him out. Ron shook his head a couple of times before gaining a little more consciousness and then he staggered into the house.

Currently, they were occupying the house of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was just the two of them, as the Order had everyone spread out. Ron and Harry were looking for and destroying Horcruxes as well as fighting off Death Eaters and Tom Riddle, himself.

Harry followed his friend into the house. Ron immediately went to the kitchen to find a towel for his nose. He could tell it was broken, but he just wanted the blood gone. The room was spinning and he couldn't focus enough to find a towel. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, trying to stop the rotating of the room. Harry went to find a washcloth and ran it under the sink to make it damp. He walked to Ron and grabbed his head as started to wipe his face of the blood. Ron pushed him away violently. Harry shook his head. His friend was nearly unconscious and he still had the strength to knock someone else out.

"Stop," Harry told him lightly as he went closer again, "Just stop moving and let me get the blood off of your face."

"Don't fucking touch me," Ron spat. He held his hand out to keep Harry away, but he lost his balance. Harry caught him and held him up. He walked him over to a chair and sat him down, tilting his head up in attempt to wipe at his face again. Ron slapped his hand away.

"I said don't touch me!" Ron snarled.

"Ron, listen, you were almost killed. I couldn't just stand there and watch you!"

"We both agreed to put our lives in danger. You almost died saving me," Ron explained furiously.

"I would've died if something happened to you! It was worth the risk! I can't afford for you to get hurt, Ron," Harry explained, his anger growing again.

"Oh, so you can't afford it?"

"That's not what I meant, Ron! I've lost too many people in my lifetime. I'm not about to lose you!"

"WELL I DON' T WANT TO LOSE YOU!" Ron shouted. He grabbed his head as the room started moving again.

"WHY? You don't want to lose me because I'm the only one who can defeat Voldemort?" Harry asked incredulously.

Ron shook his head. "I don't believe that bloody prophecy. Anyone who wants to can kill that – thing. You are just the only one who involuntarily volunteered." Harry noted that Ron's voice was now calmer. But he hadn't answered his question.

"So you don't want me to die because I'm the only one that volunteered to kill him?"

Ron shook his head again. "I've seen you after someone you loved dies. I saw you after Sirius died and after Dumbledore died. You are the strong one between the two of us, Harry. If it hurt you that bad, I could never live if the person I love died."

Ron wasn't making any sense.

"What? What is that supposed to mean!"

"You can't die, Harry. I could never live without you. Don't die-" Ron was crying now, silently, his head hanging sadly. Stunned, Harry's feet were glued to the spot where he was standing. He shook his head. Clearly his friend was about to go unconscious and was speaking nonsense. He looked over to see Ron almost fall off the chair as he fell asleep. Harry picked Ron up and took him upstairs to his room. He laid him on his bed and conjured an ice pack to put on Ron's head. With his sleeve, he wiped the blood from his friend's face. He took Ron's shirt off carefully and replaced it with a dry one. His pants weren't too wet, so he would just let him change when he woke up.

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"Harry?" Ron mumbled as he woke up. He rubbed his eyes and Harry came and stood above him.

"Don't talk," Harry told him softly, "Drink this potion." He handed the red-head a glass and Ron reluctantly drank it. When he was finished, he looked up at Harry, curious. "I knocked you out last night. That should clear the pain for the rest of the day. Sorry, Mate." Harry took the cup from Ron.

Ron caught a glimpse of the gash on Harry's cheek and he winced. "I did that?"

Harry nodded with a smile. "It doesn't hurt. Besides, I deserved it."

Suddenly, in one swift moment, it all came back to Ron. The duel, the curse and tree, the fight, the kitchen, every word exchanged, everything. He gasped as he remembered what he'd told Harry.

Harry looked back at Ron from his place at the door. "You alright?" Ron nodded.

After Harry had left, Ron got ready quickly, deep in thought. Harry had acted as if it was nothing. Was he trying to forget it? Maybe he thought that Ron didn't remember it? Ron walked down to the kitchen and grabbed two plates, two forks, and two napkins, setting them on the table. He walked to the sink and filled two cups with water. He was still deep in thought when Harry walked in. Breakfast was already done and Ron assumed it was because Harry had done it while Ron was still sleeping. They grabbed the eggs and pancakes and headed for the table. They each took a seat in silence. Ron seemed to remember something and shot up. He came back in carrying syrup. When he set it on the table, Harry grabbed his hand.

"You feel alright?" Harry asked.

Ron looked down. This was his chance. Without sitting back down in his seat, he looked down at Harry. "Do you recall any of what I said last night?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, actually. You were talking a bunch of nonsense, it didn't matter. Why?"

"No – Harry, it…it wasn't nonsense."

Harry looked at Ron with a concerned look before standing up so he was more level with Ron. "What's bothering you?"

"I meant it, Harry! It wasn't rubbish, I meant it! You are so damn stubborn! I don't want you to die because I don't want to know how it feels to lose someone you are in love with!" Ron shouted.

Harry was taken aback. He grabbed Ron into a breathtaking kiss as he shoved him into the wall behind them. Ron kissed him back, hard and rough, pushing Harry so that he was now shoved against the wall. They broke for air and Harry hid his face in Ron's neck. "I don't want to know either."