Harry made his way up to the fourth-year boys' dormitory, having finally managed to escape the raging party in the common room. The shrieking golden egg cradled in his right arm was still ringing in his ears - many of his fellow classmates had wanted to hear it again to see how he could have possibly known what to do - and if he wasn't quite mistaken, the thickness in his head was due to all the water he'd taken on that day. Maybe Hermione knew a spell that could release the water through his ears, like he'd once seen a character do in a movie they had shown in his Muggle school at the age of about six. He yawned; he would ask her about it in the morning. For now, he just wanted to collapse onto his four-poster and fall into a deep, deep enchanted sleep seriously lacking in grindylows and unfriendly merpeople.

Even underneath his sleepy exterior, the noises from the celebration that would most likely continue until the wee hours of the morning sent a thrill throughout his body. A low, humming thrill of accomplishment and, yes, a sense of pride as well. He had second place in the tournament! And the best part was that the third task was months away, he had ages to get worked up over what it could possibly be, and he had most of the school on his side, cheering him on now. Of course, a lot of people supported Cedric along with him, some even more so than him, but he really didn't mind; it had been a long time since Hufflepuff had seen any glory. He figured he rather liked Cedric at any rate. He really was alright. He'd offered him genuinely helpful advice as to how to work out what the blasted shrieking egg meant after all. Even if he did beat him to asking Cho to the Yule Ball...

As he entered the dormitory, he spotted Ron, whom he hadn't noticed had been missing downstairs, lying spread-eagled on the floor, still in his robes, his feet propped up on his own four-poster. His head tilted back to look at Harry standing in the doorway, so that his fiery red fringe fell from his forehead. Raising his eyebrows, Harry stepped over him to toss the heavy egg into his trunk.

"I didn't know you - " Ron began, but stopped, grinning like an idiot.

"What?" Harry asked, picking up his pajamas from where a house elf had apparently set them, folded, atop of his mattress. He pulled his robes over his head and went about getting into them, yawning once more. When Ron said nothing, continuing to grin, Harry couldn't help but follow his example. Buttoning the shirt over his chest, a familiar burst of excitement shot through him, as had occured several times in the past few hours. Had the day actually been real?

Suddenly, he wasn't ready for bed. Instead, he lowered himself to the floor and lay flat on his back so that when he looked to his left, he saw Ron. Vaguely, he wondered when Dean, Seamus, and Neville were going to return.

"How come you never told me - ?" Ron began again, and stopped. Harry chuckled.

"I can't very well answer your questions if you don't ask them properly."

Ron was silent and placed his hands over his middle.

"What are you doing up here anyway? Tired?"

Ron sighed. "Yeah. You?"

"Absolutely exhausted," he said, not sounding it. "How can you be, though? You spent the day unconcious at the bottom of a lake."

"I put up a bloody good fight with McGonagall in her office if you must know."

Harry laughed, staring up at the canopied ceiling. "Avoiding Hermione again?" he guessed. "If you'll just talk to her about - about whatever - Krum or - I dunno - "

"I'm not avoiding her," Ron interrupted. "We've been on perfectly right terms, Hermione and me. You've seen for yourself - we act like we've never quite met before nowadays. She caught me on my way up and shoved one of those wooly bladders under my nose, asking if it looked alright, and I told her it did. Tell me that's not messed up. But, blimey, she's happy with it..."

Harry nodded, putting his hands behind his head. "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose."

They were quiet for a moment, each thinking their own private thoughts. Then, Ron broke it by saying, "Anyway, contratulations, mate. Even though you were a complete prat - it was wicked cool what you did down in the lake. Definitely the best idea to use gillyweed out of those other idiots. How did you figure it out?"

Harry remembered that he needed to start buying Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the week. "I didn't," he responded honestly. "I was up the entire night looking for spells after you guys left and fell asleep. The next thing - Dobby was poking me awake saying that the task was ten minutes away and that I had to - " he paused, recalling Dobby's embarrassing, but really rather humorous words, and decided to continue. " - find my Wheezy. Take him back from the merpeople."

Ron, unexpectedly, didn't chuckle, but when he next spoke, Harry could hear the smile in his voice. "How did he know about the gillyweed?"

"He overheard McGonagall and Moody talking about the task and they must've mentioned it. He stole it from Snape's private cupboards."

Ron let out a low, impressed whistle and they were quiet again. It was then that Harry noticed that he could not hear the sounds from the celebration. Perhaps the wooden door to the dormitory had a special spell cast upon it that blocked out any unwanted noise whilst they were supposed to be trying to sleep.

"Harry?"

"What?"

"I didn't know that I would be the thing you miss most," Ron said, sounding almost hesitant.

Slightly uncomfortable, Harry replied, "Well...what else would it be?"

"I don't know - your Firebolt, or - your wand. No, your Invisibility Cloak. It was your dad's."

"You can't be friends with any of those things."

"You'd miss my friendship most?"

"Are you joking?" Harry asked, feigning astonishment. "I thought you knew about my extreme fixation with your hair."

Ron snorted. "Shut up. But then...why wasn't it Hermione? She's your friend."

Harry rolled his green eyes, somewhat annoyed at having to explain this. Didn't Ron know that he was Harry's best mate? "She's not you," he said simply. Then he added, "And I'm going to bed." Heaving himself off of the floor, he proceeded to do just that, without pulling closed the curtains.

"Harry."

"Ron."

"Er...she's not you either, you know."

Squinting down at the ground, for he had removed his glasses, where Ron still sprawled, he stuffed a hand underneath his pillow in an attempt to disguise the slight shock he had just received. "Well - I don't reckon she would be Hermione if she were," he joked lightly. "Night."

Ron did chuckle a bit. "Harry," he said again.

"Bloody hell, Ron."

"It's just - you don't even wonder - if, say our roles were reversed, and I was the prat down in the lake trying to save the thing I'd miss most - you don't even wonder what mine would be?"

"I'm fairly certain I'm about to find out."

Ron's voice took on a thoughtful tone. "I reckon it would be Mum. Or Ginny. But if I were like you, with no family, it would have to be you, wouldn't it?"

"Erm..." said Harry, wondering if he was supposed to agree.

"Yeah, it would," Ron said firmly before he could finish. "And that's how it is for you. I never realized how much I meant to you until now..." He finally sat up, looking at Harry. Or - in his general direction. It was hard to tell when everything was hopelessly blurry. Harry squinted harder.

"You're a sappy git."

"You love me, don't you?"

Harry gaped at him. "What?"

"Come on," Ron said in a surprisingly gentle voice. "I know you do."

Beating back his pillow, Harry cursed under his breath, feeling distinctly awkward. Of course he loved Ron. Why were they having this conversation? "You've forgotten something," he growled without fully meaning to do so.

"What's that?"

"I have Sirius."

"Ah, but it wasn't him you dragged back to land, was it? Why is that?"

"Probably because if I had," Harry snapped, "he'd be locked up like a wild bloody animal, wouldn't he?"

Ron's blurry figure stood then and began to move. Harry wasn't sure of the direction, but quickly found out when he felt the end of his bed dip down. "You mind if I sit?"

Harry wanted to say yes, he minded very much, and kick his sorry arse back into the floor, but he held his tongue, opting to say nothing at all. Ron seemed to take that as a positive response. "I suppose you're right. But you didn't know anything at all about what they were going to take from you - "

"Ron, it's obvious that Dumbledore knew I'd miss Sirius, but he couldn't very well get a hold of him when he's supposed to be hiding out for his life and make him surrender himself to a load of Ministry wizards just because I got caught up in all this mess. When that wasn't going to work, he moved on the next thing I'd most miss."

"But, Harry, you've barely seen Sirius."

"Why does this matter to you?" Harry asked, suddenly very curious.

"Because," Ron said, shifting a bit. "I...like...being the most important person to someone."

If Harry had been wearing glasses, he would be prepared to bet that Ron's ears had just turned bright red. He, himself, felt a bit warm around the collar. He sat up, blinking rapidly.

"Oh, for goodness sake," Ron muttered, reaching across him. He shoved Harry's glasses onto his face with one hand. "There, you tosspot."

He blinked a few more times, and Ron came into focus. Sure enough, his ears were flaming, and he wore an odd look of embarrassment and affection. Like he dearly wanted to hug Harry, but wasn't quite sure how to go about it. Harry looked at him, feeling slightly guilty for being irritable. He often forgot how insecure Ron could be at times, because he, himself, was famous and no one seemed to pay as much attention to him as they did Harry. He even had suspicions that Ron frequently thought his own family liked Harry better. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to offer a little comfort on that point.

"You're right, okay?" he said, rather hoarsely. "There is no one I would rather have rescued. Alright?"

Ron nodded, avoiding his gaze. "Okay."

Harry sighed deeply. "Ron...I do love you. Very much."

Ron looked up then. "But you're amazing, you are."

Harry was a litte taken aback. "Er...why?"

"All that stuff that happens to you," Ron gestured, his blue eyes lighting up, "and you never let it get to you. You should be a raving lunatic by now - Hermione would say by textbook no doubt - but you're - you're not. In fact, you're completely normal as far as I can tell, aside from - "

"The fact that I get chosen to play in tournaments I never entered?" Harry suggested shrewdly. "Or have a really pretty scar on my forehead from the most powerful wizard of all time?"

"Yeah," said Ron, letting air whoosh out of him. "You ought to be off your rocker. Glad you're not, though."

"So am I, funnily enough. Listen, do you want to hug me or not?" he asked, having quickly made this decision.

Ron's eyes widened before he grinned, his ears turning red again, and scooted closer to Harry's knees so that they could easily reach each other. They leaned forward simultaneously and embraced, somewhat loosely. The silence surrounded and pressed in upon them with the shift in atmosphere, filling Harry with the urge to give Ron a friendly pat on the back and pull away. Ron, however, didn't seem to find this new atmosphere intimidating, and held on, clearly keen on remaining in his odd mood until he had successfully reduced Harry to a writhing pile of mortification.

Except...it wasn't quite that horrible. In fact, Ron was warm. Solid. Honestly, Harry thought, Ron was not demonstrating odd behavior, he was just overcome with a particularly strong appreciation for Harry, his best mate. It wasn't so unusual. At times, he would lie there and think about how wonderful it was to have such friends as Ron and Hermione when he'd previously had none. And he figured that if Ron wanted to hug him like this (even if it was to be kept between them), then he would enjoy it as much as he could because it wouldn't happen again.

Tightening his grip, Harry buried his head in Ron's neck - and burst into entirely silent tears. They weren't silent for long; shocked with both the force of them and their existance, Harry gasped, blinking furiously.

Ron froze. Yanking himself away, Harry spluttered hastily, "Sorry. Sorry - I - " He broke off, swiping at his eyes underneath his glasses in frustration. But they kept coming as though a dam had broken. He sniffed helplessly, his head down to avoid Ron's comically raised eyebrows.

"Blimey, Harry. Didn't think contact with me could cause that type of reaction. Then again - "

"Shut up," he choked out. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel the overwhelming urge to sob hysterically? He'd been feeling happy, hadn't he? It had been a spectacularly great day; there was no plausible explanation for this...

"Do you...want to talk about something?" Ron asked helpfully, though admittedly looking quite alarmed.

Harry jerked his head, sniffing. Tears poured down his face, landing on his bed sheets and Ron's robe-clad knee. He wanted to speak again, but couldn't find his voice in the intense waterfall.

"Harry," Ron said softly. "I've never seen you like this, mate. What's happened?"

"Mm..." he managed incoherently. He winced at the desperate and pitiful quality of his voice.

As if some unspoken agreement had been passed between them, Ron nodded and moved forward to embrace him again. Harry let him. He was in no position not to let him. He sagged against him, glad for the comfort and grateful that Ron didn't seem to be repulsed or entirely uncomfortable.

Harry wasn't used to receiving too many hugs. Was that why he was crying? It would be a pretty pansy reason if it were. Did it have something to do with Ron? Maybe...the tournament? The stress had finally got to him perhaps.

By the time Ron slipped a hand into his hair, he was hiccuping, unable to draw enough breath to be comfortable. In an attempt to scrounge up the remains of his dignity, Harry straightened himself a bit so that he was no longer slumped against Ron like he was a tree stump. Ron trailed his fingers slowly through his dark hair, brushing the slightly damp strands away from his face, and shushed him very quietly as if he didn't really want Harry to hear.

"It's about time you lost it," he assured him, speaking in a low voice. "Hermione and I worry about you."

"You're not going to tell her?" Harry sniffed. "I'll never get another peaceful moment."

"C'mon," Ron scoffed. "Would I?"

Eventually, Harry regained control over himself. His slight trembling ceased, the tears slowed, the hiccups were few, and he began to accquire a deep headache. Sniffing once more, he sat back, wiping his pajama sleeve across his face. When he got the courage to peer up at Ron, what he saw subdued him even further. Ron was watching him with an uncharcteristically concerned expression filled also with so many different emotions that Harry could not quite name them. He blinked, but he did not shy away from it as he normally would have done. He was suddenly glad for this attention that Ron was showing him.

They stared at each other for a while, Harry with glistening eyes and Ron just watching...and there was something in Harry's gut that matched what he could see in Ron's expression. Smiling a little, Ron reached out and removed some of the dampness on Harry's face with his thumb.

"I don't appreciate you blubbering all over me just now," he joked.

Harry flushed involuntarily. "Well...I appreciate you letting me anyway. Git."

Ron wiped some more of the wetness, then gently lifted the hair from his forehead with his palm, leaned forward, and barely brushed his lips past the scar there. Instinctively, Harry closed his eyes, his stomach swooping as though he'd just missed a step going downstairs. Sweeping his palm over the top of Harry's head, Ron pressed another small kiss to that same spot.

"Ron," he breathed shakily.

"Right," Ron replied, hastily pulling back. Harry already missed the contact. He'd never experienced anything like it before. No one had ever hugged him like that, kissed him like that...looked at him like that. Not exactly like that. Ron truly cared about him. Ron was the reason his stomach was currently contracting. What was happening to him?

He must have been gazing intently at the boy opposite him because Ron tilted his head curiously and asked, "What?"

"I think you know damn well what."

"Harry, I'm sorry - I didn't mean - "

Harry deflated at once. "No, Ron, don't - don't do that. What I mean to say is - what the hell is going on exactly? Why are you - ?" he gestured in the hope that it would communicate his inner thoughts.

"I don't think I'm up to getting the mickey taken out on me, thank you," Ron replied, swallowing.

"Please," Harry insisted. "Unless you think I need another mystery to solve in my life - "

If he wasn't mistaken, Ron's expression softened considerably at these words. "Oh, bloody hell, Harry. Widen those big, green eyes at someone else, will you?"

Startled, Harry glanced away, having been unaware that his eyes had been slowly widening until he resembled a tree frog. Ron snorted. Slowly, Harry dragged his eyes back to him. Carefully, he asked, "H-how angry do you reckon Hermione'd be if she saw you doing that?"

Ron's own blue eyes widened. "I - I dunno - " he stuttered. "Honestly, I don't think she'd mind..."

Harry nodded, his throat closing. "Alright...what are we doing, then?"

Ron distractedly ran a hand through his bright red hair. "Well, I'd - I'd like to tell you something."

"Go ahead."

"Erm...well, I don't know how exactly...I mean..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "I mean - "

"Go ahead," Harry repeated, surprised by the fact that his stomach was doing cartwheels. His voice shook a bit.

The door to the dormitory opened with a bang. Seamus and Neville entered, giggling madly at something that must've happened downstairs, for Harry could hear similar laughter floating up toward them. There were a few cheers and then all was shut out as the door swung closed again.

"Harry! Ron!" Seamus cried. "What are you guys doing up here? You missed it - Fred and George have just turned a first-year into a penguin somehow - "

Neville howled with laughter, probably relieved that it wasn't him this time.

Harry raised his knees and rested his elbows on them, forcing a laugh and trying to appear casual. He hoped his eyes weren't rimmed with red or anything. His heart thumped wildly against his chest and, beside him, Ron's breathing was rather labored, though he was clearly attempting to conceal it.

"That kid Creevy is snapping photographs like mad - " Seamus continued, not really paying much attention to them, rummaging for something in his trunk. Neville, however, seemed to sense something was up once he had stopped laughing. He looked questioningly at them, but politely didn't say anything. He seemed to be waiting for Seamus.

"Where's Dean?" Ron asked thickly.

"Passed out in an armchair. Aha!" Grinning, Seamus extracted what appeared to be an ordinary bag of trail mix. "C'mon, Neville!" And the two boys sprinted from the room.

Once the door had closed once more, Ron turned to him. "Barkers," he said weakly.

They looked at each other. A thick, awkward sort of tension hung in the air between them now. But when Ron began to lean in, placing a hand on the side of his face, Harry didn't stop him. He made himself meet the blue eyes that were roaming over his features in fear and anxiety; they were really quite lovely, now that he thought to notice. Then, he couldn't see them anymore, for there was slight pressure on his lips, and his eyes had closed, and his mind was wiped blank.

Almost as soon as it had happened, it was over. Ron made to draw back, but Harry took hold of the front of his robes, whispering, "Hang on," before pressing their lips together again. He had to know; he had to be sure...this wasn't just some casual experiment or some fling. If this was really happening - well, then, damn it, it was going to happen. He was snogging Ron for goodness sake!

Completely by accident, Harry bit down on Ron's rather full lower lip in his shock and, yes, excitement. The result was that Ron emitted a dreadfully familiar squeak from the back of his throat, causing them to wrench away from each other, panting, despite the fact that it had only been a few seconds.

"Sorry," Harry told him, and he would have laughed if not for the seriousness of the situation.

Ron, however, grinned shiftily. "Harry..." he trailed off, seeming unsure of what to say.

So, carefully, Harry shifted toward him a bit and cupped his face with both hands, his heart and breath stuttering uncontrollably. Never had he foreseen this night...never had he really given much thought to liking Ronald Weasley as more than a very good friend. He'd always loved him, sure, but the love was brotherly. Even now...he wasn't certain that he was ready to acknowledge the possibility that brotherly love could turn into something more. Drawing in a breath, Harry slowly and hesitantly kissed Ron again, his thumbs sliding across the length of his cheekbones until they reached his ears, which were warm to the touch. Ron leaned into him, gripping his elbows. Harry broke them apart several times, pecking him gently, but repeatedly on the mouth. His hands soon slid into flaming hair, surprisingly soft, and Ron could not seem to handle it all for long; with a little exhalation through his nose, he detached their lips permanently to move down to Harry's neck.

"What's all this mean, then?" he asked, mumuring against his skin, and Harry fleetingly wondered if he purposely breathed on a rather sensitive spot underneath his ear.

"It means you should shut it and keep on doing what you're doing," he replied, tilting his head to one side, just barely; they could discuss this later on. He felt Ron's smile against him.

"Sure thing, mate."

And, without warning, Ron attacked his throat while simultaneously pushing him down into his pillows. Harry cursed softly, not having expected that reaction at all. Ron peppered his throat with kisses and moved back to his face, smoothing his hair back so often that Harry feared it was going to become as slicked as Draco Malfoy's. Not that he minded - it felt really good, having someone touch him like this. He was a complete stranger to this sort of thing.

Ron began to suck on his Adam's apple, swirling his tongue around the little knot, and Harry unconciously gripped his bed sheets. Ron's robes pillowed around him, hiding most, if not all, of his body from view, and this suddenly caused him a twinge of annoyance. Daringly, he slid his hands underneath the material and tugged it up and over Ron's head, revealing the tie, white button-down, and black trousers. He ignored Ron's raised eyebrows and combed his fingers through his floppy hair. It really was long; when they snogged, it made a full curtain around their faces, and gave him goosebumps when it brushed his skin. Harry's supposed his own hair was getting a bit long as well.

Ron lay one hand on the pillow beside his head, and the other more next to his upper arm, just looking down at him. "We should have gone to the Yule Ball together," he murmured. Harry laughed.

"We did," he reminded him. "We barely talked to our dates."

"Oh. Right."

"I expect you're going to tell me that you weren't actually brooding over Hermione and Krum the entire night, are you?" Harry teased.

"Don't be so full of yourself," Ron shot back, grinning. "Of course I was. Er...actually...Hermione turned me down when I asked her because - "

"She'd already promised Krum."

"Well, that, and she said that, er, she thought I liked someone else anyway. I was pretty surly with her for a while, figuring it out."

Harry gaped at him. "You mean she - "

"Yeah."

"Oh, Ron. You've never been able to disguise your emotions, you know."

"Well, sometimes, it gets me places," Ron said, kissing him once to prove his point. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"I'll bet you cried yourself to sleep every night when we were in that fight before the first task."

Ron scowled at him good-naturedly. "So what if I did?" he challenged. "I wouldn't talk if I were you. I didn't, by the way. I did miss you loads though."

"Did you happen to tell Hermione that by any chance?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"No," Ron said. "She buggered the socks off me, but I never admitted to anything. I expect she knew anyway...girls are very strange when it comes to that stuff, aren't they?"

Harry nodded. "I was curious because she accused me of missing you once. Thought you might have been telling her things behind my back all this time."

"Nah," Ron smiled down at him. "Now are we gonna lie here all night talking, or - "

But Harry knew what he was going to say, and got ahead of the game by seizing the loose tie that was dangling onto his chest and pulling Ron down to meet him.