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Small Fires: A Bedtime Story for SoftObsidian74
folder
Harry Potter › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
12,837
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
12,837
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own anything pertaining to Harry Potter - JKR does. I make no money from writing fanfiction.
never the same
Author\'s Note: SoftObsidian74, I\'m so happy you\'re liking your bedtime story. Thank you for your reviews, PotterEntourage, Evertoangelus. I\'ll be posting a chapter per day, and the story is 10 chapters in total. Hope you like it!
2.
~ never the same ~
In the morning they begin to hike again. Hermione walks first, holding a map and a compass. Ron follows her closely, carrying the backpack with the tent and the tarp. Harry brings up the rear.
They are out of food, though thankfully, they collected enough rainwater, making it unnecessary to bother with the water purifier.
“How much longer?” Ron asks.
“About ten kilometers, then cross a small river, then a small mountain ridge, another five kilometers. Then, the last outpost where we rendezvous with Tonks and Remus,” Hermione says cheerfully. “We\'ll be there by evening, if all goes well.”
“You\'re sure about this?”
Hermione huffs slightly. “Have you ever known me to misread a map?”
“No,” Ron concedes. “Keep up the good work then.”
“Yes, Sir,” Hermione says mockingly, but Ron isn\'t in a joking mood.
“There\'s no need to sass me,” Ron cuts her off, and she huffs again.
They continue to hike in silence after that. Harry watches his best mate, and finds that he can\'t get enough of the sight. His blazing-red hair is cut incredibly short for the sake of convenience. Just like most of them, Ron had grown thinner over the last years, but his body is still remarkably powerful and muscular.
But it\'s not just Ron\'s body that remained strong. His magical power and combat skills continued to grow over the years. He heads the Order now. More than a few members were shocked when Snape\'s will was read, in which he recommended that Ron Weasley succeeds him as the leader of the Order. Somehow, Harry wasn\'t among those who were surprised. In spite of the time and effort Snape had invested into him during the last years of the war, painstakingly imparting to him every skill he had, Legilimency, Occlumency, dueling, spell creation, Dark Arts, broomless flying, Harry never thought for a moment that Snape would name him as his successor.
Harry knew he didn\'t have the kind of remorseless, calculating ruthlessness required to head the Order at this time. The ruthlessness that required one to abandon his friends at battlefield for the greater good, or cast an Unforgivable on a bound, defenseless prisoner, or send an operative into a situation where torture and death were almost certainly unavoidable.
For that matter, Ron never used to have this sort of ruthlessness either, but the war took care of that.
It might have happened when Ginny and Arthur were laid to rest together, after their bodies had been recovered from the battlefield. Something died in Ron\'s eyes when the first clumps of dirt were tossed into the graves. Harry remembered standing numbly, feeling like he should say something, but nothing was coming to mind. He remembered that Hermione\'s cheeks were streaked with tears, and she was sobbing quietly. When Ron turned his face to her and Harry, his eyes were burning with dry, bright rage.
“Enough,” Ron said flatly. “They\'re gone. End of story.”
He turned around and walked away, without waiting for the obligatory benedictions promising the resurrection of the dead.
If Ginny\'s and Arthur\'s deaths broke Ron, the twins\' departure shaped him further, remaking him into someone else. When he was called to identify their bodies, being the closest one to the sight, he went. He stood over them for a few minutes, staring at their mangled remains, and said finally, “I don\'t know which one is which. I don\'t think it matters, either. Just bury them.”
When Harry heard those words emerge from Ron\'s mouth, he knew that their world had changed forever. His best mate was still the same... and wasn\'t. All of his passion, will, drive, ambition, and skill were now focused on one single goal: winning the war, at any cost.
Harry smiles slightly as he watches Hermione striding ahead with fierce determination. He can guess what\'s on her mind. Ron\'s a prat. In the evening, she\'ll drape herself over Harry, and make Ron beg before finally relenting, and allowing him to kiss her. Then, they\'ll have steamy reconciliation sex, and fall asleep in their tent, huddled together. They\'ll wake up in the middle of the night, argue, light a small fire for a few minutes, put it out hastily and crawl back into the tent.
No! The sudden thought flashes through his mind. Not tonight. Tonight, they\'ll be with Tonks and Remus, in their small cabin, the last outpost in the Enchanted Forest. They\'ll sleep in a normal bed. They\'ll eat normal food. They\'ll debrief. Remus will summon the Thestrals, and they\'ll fly the rest of the way, getting back to the Headquarters to finally deliver the piece of critical information that will change the course of the war.
Tonight. Harry smiles slightly, trying not to give in to the delirious excitement.
“Hey Ron,” Harry says. “My turn to carry the pack.”
“Not yet,” Ron says. “I\'ll let you know when.”
“So essentially when you are about to keel over and die, right?” Harry says dryly.
“I\'m fine,” Ron quickly dismisses the matter. “Don\'t be so competitive, Harry. You\'ll get your turn.”
“I\'m not being competitive, you\'re being an arsehole!”
“I think you\'re just feeling insecure about your own lowly position in the Order,” Ron teases lightheartedly. “I mean, Head of Covert Intelligence? That\'s feeble. I\'m sure Snape made up the position as a consolation prize for you...”
“Ah, you know what? Fuck you,” Harry mutters and shrugs his shoulders in disgust.
Ron stops, turns around and smiles at Harry ruefully. “Such a flirt, you.”
Slowly, Harry walks up to him, until his chest presses against Ron\'s. Ron is a few inches taller, quite a bit broader, but there is a kind of fragile uncertainty written on Ron\'s face, as if he\'s afraid he went too far, said too much. At the moment, he looks more human and more vulnerable than anyone else Harry can think of.
“Sorry?” Ron half-says, half-asks, as if uncertain if he needs to apologize.
“No,” Harry says, pressing closer to him. He can hear Ron\'s heartbeat. They don\'t embrace. They rarely do. For a few minutes they simply stand near each other, barely touching. It\'s enough.
“I miss Snape,” Ron says suddenly, with just a touch of loathing in his voice.
“I miss Hagrid,” Harry says wistfully.
“McGonagall.”
“Dumbledore.”
“Moody.”
“Yeah.”
They don\'t mention Ginny, or Arthur, or the twins, or Hermione\'s parents. It\'s an unspoken agreement between the tree of them. Those memories bring up too much emotion. Too much emotion is dangerous when one has to keep going.
They start hiking again. Hermione is barely visible amidst the trees, and they hasten the pace to catch up with her. The trees become more and more sparse, and Hermione starts running. She\'s the first to enter the clearing.
“We may have a problem!” Hermione shouts. She sounds alarmed.
Harry and Ron start running as well. A moment later, they join Hermione at the edge of the woods and stare at the harsh, unforgiving scenery that unfolds before them.
Harry mutters an obscenity under his breath.
Ron stares ahead with disgust. “You\'ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
To Be Continued...
~ never the same ~
In the morning they begin to hike again. Hermione walks first, holding a map and a compass. Ron follows her closely, carrying the backpack with the tent and the tarp. Harry brings up the rear.
They are out of food, though thankfully, they collected enough rainwater, making it unnecessary to bother with the water purifier.
“How much longer?” Ron asks.
“About ten kilometers, then cross a small river, then a small mountain ridge, another five kilometers. Then, the last outpost where we rendezvous with Tonks and Remus,” Hermione says cheerfully. “We\'ll be there by evening, if all goes well.”
“You\'re sure about this?”
Hermione huffs slightly. “Have you ever known me to misread a map?”
“No,” Ron concedes. “Keep up the good work then.”
“Yes, Sir,” Hermione says mockingly, but Ron isn\'t in a joking mood.
“There\'s no need to sass me,” Ron cuts her off, and she huffs again.
They continue to hike in silence after that. Harry watches his best mate, and finds that he can\'t get enough of the sight. His blazing-red hair is cut incredibly short for the sake of convenience. Just like most of them, Ron had grown thinner over the last years, but his body is still remarkably powerful and muscular.
But it\'s not just Ron\'s body that remained strong. His magical power and combat skills continued to grow over the years. He heads the Order now. More than a few members were shocked when Snape\'s will was read, in which he recommended that Ron Weasley succeeds him as the leader of the Order. Somehow, Harry wasn\'t among those who were surprised. In spite of the time and effort Snape had invested into him during the last years of the war, painstakingly imparting to him every skill he had, Legilimency, Occlumency, dueling, spell creation, Dark Arts, broomless flying, Harry never thought for a moment that Snape would name him as his successor.
Harry knew he didn\'t have the kind of remorseless, calculating ruthlessness required to head the Order at this time. The ruthlessness that required one to abandon his friends at battlefield for the greater good, or cast an Unforgivable on a bound, defenseless prisoner, or send an operative into a situation where torture and death were almost certainly unavoidable.
For that matter, Ron never used to have this sort of ruthlessness either, but the war took care of that.
It might have happened when Ginny and Arthur were laid to rest together, after their bodies had been recovered from the battlefield. Something died in Ron\'s eyes when the first clumps of dirt were tossed into the graves. Harry remembered standing numbly, feeling like he should say something, but nothing was coming to mind. He remembered that Hermione\'s cheeks were streaked with tears, and she was sobbing quietly. When Ron turned his face to her and Harry, his eyes were burning with dry, bright rage.
“Enough,” Ron said flatly. “They\'re gone. End of story.”
He turned around and walked away, without waiting for the obligatory benedictions promising the resurrection of the dead.
If Ginny\'s and Arthur\'s deaths broke Ron, the twins\' departure shaped him further, remaking him into someone else. When he was called to identify their bodies, being the closest one to the sight, he went. He stood over them for a few minutes, staring at their mangled remains, and said finally, “I don\'t know which one is which. I don\'t think it matters, either. Just bury them.”
When Harry heard those words emerge from Ron\'s mouth, he knew that their world had changed forever. His best mate was still the same... and wasn\'t. All of his passion, will, drive, ambition, and skill were now focused on one single goal: winning the war, at any cost.
Harry smiles slightly as he watches Hermione striding ahead with fierce determination. He can guess what\'s on her mind. Ron\'s a prat. In the evening, she\'ll drape herself over Harry, and make Ron beg before finally relenting, and allowing him to kiss her. Then, they\'ll have steamy reconciliation sex, and fall asleep in their tent, huddled together. They\'ll wake up in the middle of the night, argue, light a small fire for a few minutes, put it out hastily and crawl back into the tent.
No! The sudden thought flashes through his mind. Not tonight. Tonight, they\'ll be with Tonks and Remus, in their small cabin, the last outpost in the Enchanted Forest. They\'ll sleep in a normal bed. They\'ll eat normal food. They\'ll debrief. Remus will summon the Thestrals, and they\'ll fly the rest of the way, getting back to the Headquarters to finally deliver the piece of critical information that will change the course of the war.
Tonight. Harry smiles slightly, trying not to give in to the delirious excitement.
“Hey Ron,” Harry says. “My turn to carry the pack.”
“Not yet,” Ron says. “I\'ll let you know when.”
“So essentially when you are about to keel over and die, right?” Harry says dryly.
“I\'m fine,” Ron quickly dismisses the matter. “Don\'t be so competitive, Harry. You\'ll get your turn.”
“I\'m not being competitive, you\'re being an arsehole!”
“I think you\'re just feeling insecure about your own lowly position in the Order,” Ron teases lightheartedly. “I mean, Head of Covert Intelligence? That\'s feeble. I\'m sure Snape made up the position as a consolation prize for you...”
“Ah, you know what? Fuck you,” Harry mutters and shrugs his shoulders in disgust.
Ron stops, turns around and smiles at Harry ruefully. “Such a flirt, you.”
Slowly, Harry walks up to him, until his chest presses against Ron\'s. Ron is a few inches taller, quite a bit broader, but there is a kind of fragile uncertainty written on Ron\'s face, as if he\'s afraid he went too far, said too much. At the moment, he looks more human and more vulnerable than anyone else Harry can think of.
“Sorry?” Ron half-says, half-asks, as if uncertain if he needs to apologize.
“No,” Harry says, pressing closer to him. He can hear Ron\'s heartbeat. They don\'t embrace. They rarely do. For a few minutes they simply stand near each other, barely touching. It\'s enough.
“I miss Snape,” Ron says suddenly, with just a touch of loathing in his voice.
“I miss Hagrid,” Harry says wistfully.
“McGonagall.”
“Dumbledore.”
“Moody.”
“Yeah.”
They don\'t mention Ginny, or Arthur, or the twins, or Hermione\'s parents. It\'s an unspoken agreement between the tree of them. Those memories bring up too much emotion. Too much emotion is dangerous when one has to keep going.
They start hiking again. Hermione is barely visible amidst the trees, and they hasten the pace to catch up with her. The trees become more and more sparse, and Hermione starts running. She\'s the first to enter the clearing.
“We may have a problem!” Hermione shouts. She sounds alarmed.
Harry and Ron start running as well. A moment later, they join Hermione at the edge of the woods and stare at the harsh, unforgiving scenery that unfolds before them.
Harry mutters an obscenity under his breath.
Ron stares ahead with disgust. “You\'ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
To Be Continued...