This was written for Brodie who had an alternate reason for Harry's dating habits in Helen's Close Enough.

Crossed Signals

by Icarus

Harry cringes, unsure what else to say. Ron's hand is warm and slightly sweaty as it slides off his back and leaves behind cold air. The short distance between them suddenly seems like miles. Harry looks up to find that stung expression on his best friend's face.

He tries to explain, "Sorry, um... you're a great friend. But - but I don't - I can't think of you in that way."

"Oh."

Ron scuffs his shoe as they stand in the yard behind the Burrow, quiet a long moment. "Just so you know, I'm not like that."

"Right."

"Just keep that in mind." Ron wags his finger.

"Okay."

There's another long silence that neither of them have the heart to break. Starlings chatter in the trees above them, then scatter across the sunset. Ron squints up at the sky.

"Your mom's making dinner --" -- "I think it's dinner time." They both say at the same time, and then laugh, embarrassed.

They turn to head inside, the warm glow of the Weasley kitchen beckoning gold against the twilight blue. Fred and George are upstairs, arguing happily as they throw things at each other. It seems like another distant world from the outside. Pebbles crunch underfoot.

"I don't suppose you've heard of The Centaur Club," Harry begins, shyly looking at the ground. "Because, um, Saturday they're having a special...."

Ron turns to him with a shocked laugh. "I thought you said you didn't like bars!"

"I didn't think you'd like someplace like The Centaur," Harry shrugs.

"Huh." Ron stares off into space a moment. Then he nods. "Sure. Saturday's good."

Then he chuckles, nudging Harry's shoulder playfully. "So... Charlie, eh?"

Finis.