Dark mist swirls, creating cruel images. Harry saw himself in the mist with bloodshot eyes and unnaturally sharp teeth, pale and unnerving. He gasps and the picture wisps away like thin, black sand. High-pitched screams sound from every direction. Behind the mist, Harry could see Hermione and Ginny laying on the ground. His fists clench and shake, and he cries out in desperation. There was clearly blood covering their ripped clothing and some very nasty bruises. He cries out again, but they, too, disappear. "No..." The mist clears and he sees Ron, in his striped pajamas, reaching an arm out to Harry. He tries to run to the ginger but seems to be running backwards. Slowly, Harry could see deep cuts forming on his best mate's arms and face. Blood pours from the obscenities on the boy's skin and Ron's complexion pales. Dark blue patches litter the redhead's body. A raging fires appears, trapping the adolescents. A horrid cackle sounds through the thick atmosphere. Harry turns to find himself standing behind him, or rather a sick, twisted version of himself. Red irises shine behind circular glasses and it gives a terrible smile. Rows of sharp teeth disappear as it licks its tongue over them; the teeth pierce the muscle, drawing scarlet liquid. It cackles again, sending nasty shivers down Harry's spine. He tries to move, to tell Ron to run but to no avail. All movement of his body had ceased and he could only watch as his counterpart eases its way towards Ron. A slight glint in its hand caught Harry's eye. The object shined and gleamed rather brightly in the dark background. Time seemed to slow as Ron gently grabbed its bicep. The ginger smiles and starts to speak but only sputters. The glistening dagger was now covered in maroon, protruding from the boy's chest. Ron falls flatly on the ground, pushing the weapon further inside its host. His body starts to dissolve into the black and too soon, Harry is left alone with the demonic entity. It laughs darkly when Harry falls in a heap to the floor, gaining back his mobility. "Ron... No..." Harry whispers, tightly shutting his eyes and willing himself to wake. "Bring Ron back." His counterpart chuckles and kicks Harry roughly on the back. Tears overflowed and the raven quietly sobbed, wishing for the ginger's comfort.

"You did this!" He heard an accusing voice shout. Harry glanced up, still curled in on himself, to see Ron but much worse than before. Bones could be seen under deep cuts or where sections of skin was missing. Harry shook his head, tears blurring his vision and staining his glasses. "You did this to me!" Ron yells.

Both boys' bodies shook violently, one from anger and the other from fear and deep sadness. "No... I.. didn't. No." Harry whispered and was kicked again, this time by his best mate. He hears the dark laugh behind him again. Oh, but you did. His counterpart concluded in his head. Harry could feel the tears pouring profusely, refusing to look pass his eyelids. You caused it all. You brought their demise. Another sharp kick directed at his ribs made Harry yelp and spread his body out, away from the new bruise. It laughs again, bending in front of Harry's face. It's quite fun, is it not? Seeing the destruction you bring, quite comical. It quickly stands and faces Ron with the dagger again in its hand. The demon smiles wickedly at Harry before placing the knife at Ron's throat, slicing the pale ginger's skin. After a long, agonizing moment, Harry achingly crawls to the white, lifeless body. He places a soft hand on Ron's bloated chest, still filled with air, completely ignoring his counterpart. "Ron..." Harry yells out incoherent words to the darkness surrounding them.

"No!" Harry yells, sitting straight up in bed. His bedroom door slams open, Ron quickly running in and sitting on his bed. He looks at his best mate a moment before jumping on the ginger, sending them both down on the bed. "Ron..." Harry whispers. Despair and relief filled his voice, making Ron's heart lurch. Sobs rake the raven's body, him clutching tightly to a striped pajama shirt. Instead of speaking as he so much desires, Ron rubs his friend's back, trying to ease the boy's pain.

Harry pulls his best friend as close as he could, burying his tear-soaked face soundly in the ginger's chest, taking no notice of the sharp intake of breath as he did so. "Harry, it's okay." Ron says, almost pleadingly. Ron now had one hand in dark locks, his fingers snagging in tangles while the other rubs small circles on the boy's back. He tried to ignore the fact that Harry was firmly laying on top of him, Harry's nails digging into Ron's chest and sopping wet shirt. "I'm here." Ron whispers.

Soon enough, the sobs stop and Harry sniffles. He slowly sits up, oblivious that he is practically straddling Ron. The ginger sighs quietly under his breath, not making a move to sit up himself. He was use to comforting Harry but never had Harry been so openly affectionate about it. The nightmares that plagued the boy when they were younger by his scar did not cause pain such as this. With the scar, most of the pain was physical but this time, Ron could tell how emotional it really was. Harry mutters beneath his breath before whispering quietly, "I thought I had lost you..." He rubs under his sore eyes, carefully watching the other. He wasn't about to let Ron slip away from him. Never.

Ron gently sits up, sliding out from under Harry. "You didn't mate, you won't." Ron says. With a sad smile, Harry pulls Ron in a long, warm embrace. Grateful to no longer seeing his friend cry, Ron eagerly returns the hug while Harry whispers apologies. "Want to talk about it?" Harry shakes his head, easily playing with the hair at the nape of Ron's neck. This was something he did after every terrible nightmare: refusing to tell anyone. Ron silently decides to owl Hermione first thing in the morning to come for a visit. Harry has been having nightmares every night and by the looks of it, they get worse and worse. Ron goes to leave, figuring Harry had settled down, but was stopped by a pulling on his sleeve. A pale hand was attached to the long sleeve, followed by a disheveled haired boy, sniffling lightly.

"Will you... stay?" Harry asks. Was Harry really asking him to sleep in the full sized bed with him? "Please." Bewildered, Ron stares at the raven. Ron silently crawls in the bed and under the covers, agonizingly slow. Harry smiles as brightly as he can before sinking down under the covers himself. It was strange, for Ron, being in the same bed as his best mate. The fact that it was Harry didn't bother him, it was that he was use to being alone in bed. When there was something or someone else in with him, he normally held him or her close. His brothers had slept beside him countless times, Ginny too, but one would always end up cuddling the other. He gasps when Harry curls against his side, now fully aware Harry was shirtless. Sighing and hoping the hero wouldn't notice, Ron wraps his arm around Harry.

The next morning, Ron wakes up to find himself in bed with his best mate's head on his chest. Unable to resist the sudden urge, he softly runs his fingers through the messy, tangled black hair. Harry breathlessly moans, sending chills up Ron's spine. Not entirely sure whether the other was awake or not, Ron merely slips out of bed and heading for the kitchen. He sets the kettle on the stove, grabbing a quill and a sheet of parchment. Scribbling quickly, Ron writes a short letter to Hermione. Pig happily takes the letter, sloppily flying away from the boys' home. Thoughts cross Ron's mind. What was so bad that made Harry Potter cry? What was that about when Harry said he thought he lost Ron? Why did he want Ron to stay? Harry had always said it was fine, after each bad dream and quickly sent his friends on their merry way. Never before did he want to anyone to stay, let alone in bed with him. Ron wasn't going to lie, that was the best sleep he has had since before the Second Wizarding World War.

The kettle boiled, making an awful screeching noise and causing Ron to jump. He shakes his head at himself and pours a cup of tea. He couldn't help but stare at Harry's door, worried senseless about him. Ron didn't want anything to happen to Harry, especially if he could stop it. Eventually, the doorknob turns and Ron quickly adverts his gaze, sipping at the tea. "Cup of tea?" Ron asks.

Harry nods, taking a seat at the small kitchen table. "Thanks." Tiredness leaks into his voice. "Last night was dreadful." Ron silently agrees for the most part, handing Harry the tea. The sharp shrill of the doorbell rings before Hermione lets herself in. Both boys were a mess but Hermione could see dark bags under Harry's eyes and the disconnected look they gave. She steps into the kitchen, giving the two a tight hug and sits on Harry's other side.

"Harry, are you okay?" She asks just as she use to in school. Her hair was cropped short, shorter than both Ron's and Harry's and considerably darker. "Ron owled me about your nightmares. What's happening, Harry?"

Slumping further in his seat, Harry growls lowly at the ginger. "Nothing, I'm fine." The female gives him a stern, tell-me-now-or-I'll-make-you look. "Look, it was just a dream, okay? Everything's fine!" His anger was quickly evolving and he was giving his teacup a firm squeeze. Ignoring his two friends, he stomps into the living room and plops on the couch, switching on the television.

Ron sighs, holding his head with his hand. "He wasn't like this last night, I swear. He- he was crying, sobbing and kept muttering odd things. He said, "I thought I had lost you." and he asked me to stay. I don't know what's wrong. Each night is worse and that was last night." Ron himself felt like crying, but only a little. There was something wrong with his best friend and he couldn't figure out anything to do. Hermione places her hand on his free one and he gives her the tiniest of smiles.

The red haired male stares at the boy aggressively flipping through the television's channels. A disheartened feeling drops to the pit of his stomach as he watched his roommate. Anger didn't really suit Harry well just as it hadn't in his fifth year at Hogwarts. Ron wanted to slam his head roughly against the table. Why wasn't there anything for him to do? Trying to physically comfort Harry wouldn't do much good, seeing as Harry probably wouldn't let him. Emotional comforting wouldn't be much better since Harry was considerably angry. He thought Hermione would be able to help him but she only angered Harry. This didn't seem to be doing a lot of good.

Hermione sighed and removed her hand. Things weren't going so well for the two and she felt saddened. She gets up and gracefully follows Harry to the couch, Ron behind her. "Harry? What if-" She started but Harry quickly cuts her off with a sharp no. "But if you just-" He did it again. "Harry James Potter! Listen to me!... Why don't you write it down? It could help you forget."

"Forget? No, I can't forget it..." Harry says, voice soft and broken. "But fine, I'll write it down." His anger dissipated into the air and that was left was a deep sadness and hurt. The further he wrote into his nightmare, the more he looked at Ron, almost afraid he would dissolve into a black mist. Ron shifts uncomfortably under Harry's gaze. Finally, Harry sits his quill down and slides the parchment across the coffee table. Hermione snatches it first, reading carefully. She was amazed at his writing but the content bothered her. When she glances at Harry, he is looking at his hands with eyes full of shame.

Ron takes it from her, reading it for himself but not getting far before someone grabs his right hand. He looked to see Harry holding his hand tightly. "I'm sorry." Harry says. He looked as he did last night, small and broken, tears settling at the bottom of his eyes. Ron wanted nothing more than to grab Harry by the shoulders and pull him for a hug bigger than life itself, to hold Harry tightly and forget the world but with one questioning look from Hermione, Ron squeezes Harry's hand and continues reading. What was written on the paper repulsed him. Harry would never do such a thing and this, this, nightmare would not change his mind. Ron didn't know what he was doing until after it had happened. He brought his lips to Harry's, holding the shorter male by the waist. His insides were twisting, his heart melting, and his feelings explode. Much to the ginger's surprise, he could feel lips gently trying to match his movements. He hands start to travel along Harry's side until Ron remembers a girl sitting only a seat away. Harry shivers and grabs Ron's hands. Ron abruptly pulls away, confounded by his actions. Harry bites his lower lip, looking at Hermione. What just happened? Her mouth, much similar to Ron's, is hanging open, gaping at the two boys.

Befuddled, Hermione slowly breathes in and out. She couldn't comprehend what she had just witnessed. Harry looks at Ron, confused yet oddly pleased before noticing their still intertwined hands. He blushes lightly but doesn't say anything, unsure if he really wanted to let go. Kissing a man was certainly different; it left the three utterly shocked, Hermione most of all. Never once had the thought occurred that either of her friends preferred male company over female. Ron's face and ears quickly red and he tries to ignore the tingly feeling coursing through his veins. Slowly, Hermione smiles. The two would be quiet cute together. As if afraid by her reaction, Ron unconsciously tightens his hold on Harry's hand.

"Well Ron, I think you have this covered." Hermione says, standing up. "I have to be at work in an hour. I'll see you two at dinner Sunday." She quickly leaves, leaving the two boys alone on the couch holding hands.

They jump apart and look anywhere but at each other, both faces beet red. Harry could feel the nervousness bubbling in his stomach. "Ron, you kissed me." Harry whispers. Ron mumbles under his breath. "You kissed me."

"Harry, I'm sorry. I wasn't pay-" Ron starts but a warm mouth covers his own. Lips move tenderly against one another, Ron caressing and nibbling Harry's lower lip. Harry wraps his arms around Ron's neck, pulling lightly on ginger hair while Ron's fingers leave ghost trails down Harry's sides. They pull back a moment, smiling profusely. "Okay, so I'm not sorry." Ron laughs before pulling Harry back to him. The feelings return, stronger than before, sending his body and mind in knots. This is the feeling Ron and Harry so achingly needed, the blissful lullaby soothing their minds. When was the last time either had felt so great?