Harry curled into his world of misery, blocking anything and everything out. His mind blank except for one simple thought,
He’s gone. Harry knew what loneliness was, his only companion in his earlier years…his companion now. They used
him. They didn’t understand his pain, so he blocked them out. They would sometimes come up to his dark and lonely room
in number 12 Grimmauld Place. They would sit and talk to him. Tell him with empty words that they cared, that they loved him.
They would tell him that they were here for him. They weren’t really. They said that so he would save a world that didn’t
give a damn about him. He wouldn’t risk his life for them.
Okay, maybe for one of them.
The only person
who wasn’t prodding him to come out of his misery to save them. The only person who would just sit and stroke his hair.
The only person that didn’t say hollow words to him. The only person he would die for, as that person would do in return.
His best mate.
Ron, the first person to befriend him, to see the scared and lonely boy going into
the unknown. Ron was the only person in this world that had stuck by him through anything, the only person that could make
him smile and laugh, the person who could make anything seem worth fighting for if he was there.
It was odd that he
was thinking these things while Ron sat beside him, reassuring him silently that he would be there, with the strength and
courage he needed to go on. Ron was his anchor, his last connection to the world. Ron moved. He was starting to get up. He
No! He thought wildly, Don’t leave!
“Ron…stay…” he muttered, a
feeble attempt at getting that comfort back.
Ron turned, surprised at the sound of Harry’s voice. Harry hadn’t
spoke since he got here, three weeks ago. It was hoarse and cracking, with an edge of panic. Ron sat back down on the bed,
next to Harry’s small body. He resumed stroking his hair.
“Shhh…I’m not going anywhere…”
Harry sighed in contentment. This was what he needed. This is what he wanted. He snuggled closer to Ron’s
warm and strong body trying to gain more comfort though that warmth. Ron moved, wrapping his gentle arms around Harry as he
laid back. He let Harry rest his head against his shoulder. Harry sighed. He wanted to stay like this forever. He didn’t
want to fight. He didn’t want to die before he saw the age of eighteen. Ron took those thoughts away for a little while.
Harry suddenly felt a rush of gratitude and love for his best friend, his brother. He wanted to show Ron how mush he meant
to him. He wanted to show it. So he did what he thought would get the job done. He pulled Ron’s head down and pressed
his lips to Ron’s. They were soft, just a little chapped, and warm, definably warm. He then hesitantly ran his tongue
against Ron’s lower lip. Ron opened his mouth slightly in answer, and Harry slipped his inexperienced tongue into Ron’s
mouth. It was a few minutes later when they broke apart, quietly panting.
“Thank you.” Harry whispered.
nuzzled his hair in response. Harry sighed his head lying again on Ron’s shoulder.
“Stay with me.”
Harry murmured softly into Ron’s ear.
“I’ll be here, like always.”