Author's Notes:

Final chapter!

A little revising done here and there, so it's a bit different from the original fest piece. Hope you like it, if you've read the version!

They were on opposite sides of the room again, casting longing glances at each other, both too stubborn to try closing the distance that had grown between them once more.

It had been hours since they'd fucked, and neither of them had uttered a single word to the other in all that time. Harry almost wanted to shout, just to break up to monotony, to demand of Ron what more he wanted to make things right between them. Would it take Harry almost being disemboweled, roasted, and eaten alive by a dragon again for Ron to come to his senses this time, too?

He glanced at the cave entrance, noting that the snow continued to fall, albeit with half the strength of earlier, during the worst of the storm. It was definitely approaching midnight, although how close to the witching hour it was, Harry couldn't say. The snow was now seriously piled up in front of the entrance, brought up short by the magical warding. If the spell faltered, they'd be wading in snow up to their hips to get out. Wet jeans were the worst to try and get off, Harry knew, and they were practically useless when it came to keeping out the cold. He lamented leaving his flat this morning without his thermals on underneath…

A sudden thought occurred to him that hadn't before, and he looked over at Ron's outfit, noting that both he and his best friend were dressed similarly in casual jeans and jumpers—clothing unintended for long-term exposure to the weather. However, where Harry had been wearing a hat and scarf and gloves in addition to a thick, Muggle snow jacket (all of which he'd removed when the air in the cave had become too stifling), Ron wasn't armed with any of those things aside from a woolen jacket to protect him from the winter's bitter wind. Even if he hadn't heard about the storm coming, Harry thought his friend might have at least known better then to head towards an uncharted cave without proper environmental protection.

"Why were you out here anyway?" he asked, finally breaking through the obstinate hush while considering what he knew of the situation. "You're not on assignment this week, according to the work roster. I checked it before I left. And Ginny's note hinted that you were out here for a personal reason."

Ron glanced down at his boots. "Does it matter? We're not partners anymore. You don't have to concern yourself‒"

Now it was Harry's turn to snap, the awkwardness and tension boiling over, coming to a head. "Bin the bullshit, will you? You claimed that I should have known your heart enough to know how you felt about me, well that goes both ways."

Ron frowned. "What's that mean?"

"It means I'll worry about you until the end of my days, work partners or not!"

"Why?"

"Why?" Harry ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair again, unsure if yanking it out might prove a good stress relief or not. Ron was really pushing his buttons now. "How can you even ask that after what we just did not an hour ago?"

"But you do that with a lot of men. Maybe not bottom for them, but you still fuck them."

Harry glared at him. "That wasn't fucking what we did, and you know it. Besides, you haven't been exactly celibate over the last year and a half either, from what I've heard."

Firmly, Ron shook his head. "You're the only guy I've been with."

Harry gave him a cynical look that, if he'd still had his glasses, would have been all the more dramatic. "Do you think I'm unaware that there's a whole other gender out there you've been happily sniffing your way through since March, according to the gossip rags?"

Ron flushed, clamped his lips shut, and looked away.

They were quiet for a bit after that. Harry was silently turning things over in his head, like he would a case, and Ron was using his wand to burn scribbles into the cave's stone flooring, much as he used to do in the margins of his books back during their school days.

After a sufficient amount of time had passed, Harry decided he'd let Ron dodge his initial question long enough. The Auror in him took charge. "I'll ask you one more time: why were you out here? What were you looking for in Black Annis' hide-out?"

His companion mumbled something indecipherable.

"What?" Harry shook his head. "I didn't catch that way over here."

"I said," Ron repeated, louder and a little belligerent, too, "that this isn't her cave."

That floored him. Not Black Annis' hide-out? But weren't they in the Dane Hills, where she was rumoured to live? And wasn't this the only cave around, as far as Harry could tell? "Well, then… where the hell are we?"

Ron shrugged. "A cave Ginny and I found by accident when I we were kids, exploring. My family once picnicked at Sheet Hedges Wood nearby, and we stumbled across it. Black Annis closed up her cave on the other side of the hills a long time ago. She moved to the moors in Somerset instead. Likes the weather there better. She and Mum are old friends."

A small headache was beginning to bloom behind Harry's eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose to attempt to stave it off. "So, you didn't come here to try to make some sort of deal with the world's most dangerous cannibal Hag?"

"Nope."

"Then what the hell are we doing here?"

Ron glanced up at him with those brilliant baby blues that could melt Harry into the floor. "Figuring our shite out."

At first, Harry didn't understand what it was Ron was trying to tell him—the words behind the words eluded him. Then, he considered the situation from the angle of solving a crime, rather than solving an emotional minefield, and like one of those optical-bending 3-D stereograms, he began to see the background image through the foreground noise… and to fathom its importance.

He slowly climbed to his feet, astonished by the level of deceit in Ron's planning. He wouldn't have thought his best friend capable of such Slytherin-like manoeuvering.

"You set me up! You had Ginny send me that note, telling me you'd gone out in the middle of the night to chase after Annis for some goddamned unknown reason, and that you hadn't come home and that she worried you'd done something stupid. It was all to lure me out here, so you could get me alone, locked in a place I couldn't escape." He glanced towards the cave entrance. "The wards… I should have known. All Aurors serve a stretch as an Azkaban guard. No wonder they're so familiar—and why the magic was both feminine and masculine. Ginny helped you, didn't she?"

"It was all her idea, actually," Ron admitted, and Harry thought that much more likely than Ron suddenly adopting serpent-like tendencies. "She knew I still fancied you, and was tired of seeing me moping around."

Harry's eyebrow twitched with surprise at that. "She knew? About you and me being… intimate, I mean."

Ron's sniffed, amused. "She told me she thinks the reason you couldn't love her was 'cause you already, you know."

"Loved you," Harry finished for him, unashamed of that fact.

"She said that's why you two hooked up to begin with—'cause you were trying to replace me with a girl version."

Harry blew out a heavy breath, his brain still a bit fuzzy from the endorphin rush he'd earlier experienced. Coupled with his exhaustion, it was difficult for Harry to rally any real anger. He knew he should be roaring mad at being duped, but honestly, being lured here had given him and Ron this chance. No matter what happened, he'd never regret what they'd earlier shared.

"I think your sister's right," he admitted. "What I felt for her was never what I'd felt for you. She's beautiful and… and an amazing woman, but she just couldn't replace you in my life, no matter how hard I tried to shove her into your spot and make her fit."

Ron nodded in understanding. "It was the same for 'Mione. I wanted her to be something she couldn't be." He glanced up at Harry through thick, dark crimson lashes. "There's only one you, Harry, and you're… irreplaceable to me."

And there it was: Ron's capitulation.

Harry didn't know what had allowed such a miracle to occur, whether it had been something he'd finally said right or perhaps what they'd done earlier had slowly broken down walls, but he wasn't looking this gift horse in the mouth, either. He slipped his wand back into his belt holster and crossed the room to stand over Ron.

"I was stupid."

"Yeah, you were," his best friend agreed, his voice a little hoarse, as if it were difficult for him to find the breath to squeeze through his vocal chords.

Harry knew how that felt, because right then, his chest was a cage for his slamming heart. "I want you back."

"In… in what way?" Ron looked very unsure of a sudden.

Harry squared his shoulders and told him very succinctly, "In every way."

Ron's throat bobbed and he stared up at Harry as if he dare not believe his good fortune. "What about Creevey?"

Harry's world tilted a bit. He didn't know Ron knew about his occasional lover, as he hadn't seen a sniff of a mention of it in the papers, but perhaps Ron had his own ways of finding things out. He was still an Auror, after all. "We're not together," he explained. "We saw each other occasionally, but… it was just something for both of us to do. No emotional ties. You're the only one I've ever felt something more substantial for, Ron—something deeper."

He held a hand out to the man he'd known he'd loved since they were fifteen, when Ron had stood up for him against their dormitory mates, backing Harry's word on Voldemort's resurrection and facing down Seamus Finnigan over it. In that moment, Harry's soul had trembled, and he'd felt not just gratitude wash over him, but a distinct and shiny kind of warmth that had blanketed him from head to toe, pushing out the chill that had taken over his bones at Finnigan's accusations. It had taken quite a few more years and tribulations to put that feeling into grown-up words, but the sensation of it resonating inside him had existed from that day onward.

"Let me prove it to you," he offered.

Still, Ron stared at him as if he were afraid to close the gap and take the leap right along with Harry. "You'd better not be wanking me, mate, 'cause I don't think I can do this again. The fighting and you pushing me away, I mean."

Harry chuckled. "Ron, I'm sure we'll fight until we're old and grey. That's who we are, you and me. We bicker like fools on occasion, we act all stubborn about who goes first when it comes to apologising, but eventually, we make up. We've been that way since we were eleven." Harry's fingers twitched, urging Ron to take them in his own hand. "But I promise you, if you take my hand right now, no matter how hard we rage at each other, I'll never let you go again."

A breath, that's all the time there was between the end of Harry's proposal and Ron leaping like a lion for him. His best friend's wand clattered to the stone ground as he dropped it, and their palms met with a definitive smack, and then Harry was yanked into Ron's arms. Their hungry mouths met a beat later, sealing the deal with heat and promise.

"I want you again," Ron growled around their kisses, already tearing at Harry's belt. "Right now."

Harry's hands burrowed under Ron's shirt again, feeling the smooth skin and the crisp hairs on his chest. "I know the feeling. God, I can't believe– Every day I watched you at work, assigned to other partners, and it hurt how you ignored me, but I still hoped for this chance again." His fingers shook as he started on Ron's belt and fly. "I prayed for it."

Ron captured his mouth to shut him up. "No more. We only go forward from here."

Harry nodded, silently agreeing. Their break-up was the past. There was the future to look forward to now.

He whimpered into another deep kiss as he pulled Ron's jumper up to his neck, trying to get it over his lover's head without breaking apart. Alas, it proved an impossible task. As their mouths separated, Harry tugged the jumper up and off, and then tossed it aside without thought. Immediately, their lips came together once more.

"Damn it," Ron suddenly swore, ripping the jeans from Harry's hips with eagerness. "Get these bloody things off, will you? They make your arse look great, but they're too tight unless you lay back or stand up."

Harry performed a tuck and half-roll out of Ron's lap and onto the ground. He lifted one leg into the air so he could reach his boots and started untying them. Ron took care of the remaining boot for him. Once they'd cleared with his socks, his jeans and pants were easy to remove. The floor was a bit cool against his back and his arse, and a little rough, so Harry made a nest of his and Ron's jackets and jumpers as Ron pulled his own jeans to his knees, baring his hard, stiff cock. He picked up his wand.

"Lay back and spread your legs for me."

Harry did as he was bade, and then he felt Ron's spell tingle up his spine, followed by the cool, slick feeling of lubricant inside him once more. He tilted his head back and sighed with pleasure.

"Merlin, that's so good."

Ron's hands came down on either side of Harry's body and he lowered his hips into the cradle of Harry's thighs. Their pricks rubbed together, soft and warm, and both very erect, despite what they'd already done once tonight. It felt amazing.

"Put me in," Ron whispered, and Harry reached between them, tilting his hips up.

He gripped Ron's cock and pressed it against his hole. "Push," he instructed, and Ron did, while Harry held the rigid shaft, guiding it straight and true. "Oh, Godric, yes," he hissed as his lover slowly opened him back up. When he could hold on no longer, he reached up to grip Ron's muscular shoulders and he let himself go loose, welcoming his best friend into him again. The easy slide contained a hint of burn, and it was again perfect. "I love this part best."

Ron grunted, his jaw clenched, his forehead creased with concentration. He was watching himself sink into Harry by inches. When he was finally seated as far in as he could go in this position, he let out a heavy breath. Lashes fluttering as he fought off his orgasm, he stilled, waiting for his body to back off from the edge.

Lowering himself, he pressed his whole body to Harry's, and brought their mouths together once more. "I love you," he murmured around tender, sweet kisses.

Harry held onto Ron as his lover began moving in him, murmuring a return sentiment in Ron's ear, then against his lips, and a third time into the hollow of his throat as he nipped and licked every inch of skin he could reach. He pulled his knees in tight, raising his heels and hips off the floor to give Ron even deeper access.

Ron's face was pressed into Harry's shoulder, his pelvic movements incrementally speeding up until he was pounding... pounding so hard Harry was seeing stars again.

"Harry," Ron whined in warning, his body tensing, preparing to spill. "I can't... I'm coming!"

"Yes, come for me," he urged his best friend. Even though he wasn't going to make it over the edge himself this time, his body's exhaustion finally catching up, Harry tightened his inner muscles, creating the perfect friction to send his lover tumbling off the cliff into bliss.

"Oh, fuck!"

As Ron cried out, his hips jerking as he spurted his hot seed into the slick fist of Harry's arse, Harry held his best friend tightly in his arms, so thankful for being given this second chance. And Ron was right there with him, holding him close as if he never wanted to be parted from him again. Harry's heart turned over in his chest in happiness. He didn't even care that he hadn't had an orgasm. Everything he'd ever wanted was right here, right now. The rest was just... bonus.

Weakly, Ron pulled out of him and rolled them onto their sides. He wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him in tight enough for Harry to lay his head down on Ron's chest and for their hips to remain close enough for their tired cocks to rest against each other.

Harry nuzzled the crisp, auburn hair rubbing against his cheek, liking the way it tickled his sensitive skin.

"You didn't... Want me to–" Ron lazily reached between Harry's legs and touched his partially-erect, wet length.

"No. S'okay," Harry told him, entwining their fingers instead. "We're both too tired. Consider it my penance for time wasted when we could have been doing this instead."

Ron glanced down at him. "You sure?"

Harry nodded.

"'Kay. Later, then. I'll suck you off. I've missed doing that."

The idea had Harry's slowly flagging cock rallying once more, but he suddenly felt another wave of tiredness wash over him. "Shit, so have I, but… later, yeah." He buried a yawn against Ron's chest. "Damn. I wish we could just stay here forever. I could sleep for the next thousand years right here."

Ron chuckled. "Yeah, I s'pose it's not a bad place, as far as caves go." He sighed. "Still, the storm spell Ginny cast over the area will only last 'til dawn. After that, the snow stops falling. We should probably vacate long before then, before the Witch of Wookey Hole shows up. It's Winter Solstice and time for her annual move-in." He gave a great yawn and stretched. "Getting caught by the likes of her would be bad. She's not a very nice hag, according to Mum."

It took Harry's foggy brain a few moments to process what Ron had said.

"Er… Isn't Wookey Hole part of the Mendip Hills in Somerset—a hundred and fifty miles from here?"

"Well, yeah," Ron replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "but this is her winter hide-out. Hags are migratory, you know. They don't stay in the same place all year 'round. Keeps 'em from being harassed by the locals. The Witch of Wookey Hill sets up shop here every winter, now that Black Annis has moved away." He sat up on an elbow and looked down at Harry. "Didn't you learn anything in Binns' class?"

Harry blinked up at Ron, completely baffled. "I did, yeah, but I thought you slept through all his lectures!"

His best friend shrugged one shoulder. "'Mione always let me cheat off her, and you know how thorough she is. Bless the witch, I'd have failed so many classes without her help."

"But you remembered that ambiguous bit of information about hags from a test you plagarised over ten years ago?"

The idea was staggering. Harry couldn't remember what he'd worn yesterday without some serious thought, as it just wasn't that important to him. That Ron could recall some obscure historical fact crammed down their throats by their mind-numbing History of Magic classes over a decade ago was… well, it was fucking impressive.

"Well… yeah. I'm shite at testing and writing papers, but there's nothing wrong with my memory, Harry."

Feeling sheepish at being reminded that behind his usual air of casual nonchalance, there was actually quite a brilliant brain in his best friend's skull, Harry blushed.

"You just constantly amaze me."

Ron's smirk was slow and filled mischief. "That's a good thing, yeah?" His hand slipped between Harry's legs, stroking gently.

Harry gasped as the feathery touches that were, once more, getting him hard. "Hell, yes. But… we should go, like you said. Beat the storm, slip past the hag. Use the snow to make good our escape."

Ron skimmed down Harry's body and then stared up at him from between his thighs. "Bollocks, who needs that kind of camouflage? We're Aurors! We'll fight our way free, if need be!" His grin was positively boyish and infectious. "'Sides, we've still got a few hours 'til dawn." He took Harry in hand—as it seemed he'd always done—and began manipulating him towards a delightfully good end. "Let's make the most of Ginny's storm."

"Whatever you say," Harry gasped, once again in full agreement with his best friend.

~FIN~

Author's Final Notes:

This story was my first actual attempt at Harry x Ron ("Just Right" was my second, but I posted that one first on this site as sort of an introduction into the ship as seen through my eyes, as it contains no actual sex... I was prepping you for this tale). Hope you enjoyed it! No sequel planned - I like it as-is.

Please leave a review, if you would, and let me know how you liked it. I'd love to read your thoughts! :)