But I Won't Do That

Harry expected to find Draco in the kitchen, but when he walked in Ron was seated on a stool at the island in the middle of the room, eating from what turned out to be an enormous tub of ice cream. He looked up when Harry walked in and grinned nervously. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

Harry shook his head and sat on a stool facing Ron. Without a word, Ron opened a drawer, pulled out a second spoon and handed it to Harry. Thanks,” Harry muttered, and they spent a few silent minutes taking turns with the ice cream.

“Where’s Draco?” Harry asked after the silence became too loud. “I thought he came in here.”

“He’s outside,” Ron said, gesturing toward a door. His expression darkened slightly. “We don’t get along, so we stay out of each other’s way. How’d you know he was up?”

“I- I ran into him coming down here.”

“Another of his and Neville’s playtimes?” He grimaced at Harry’s surprised look. “They like to shag all over the house. I’ve walked in on them four or five times now, it’s just so wrong.”

“You, er…didn’t say anything this afternoon. When Draco…” Harry blushed. He’d tried to make it a question and not sound accusatory, but it hadn’t worked.

“It’s none of my business,” Ron said a bit sharply. “If Neville wants to shag that two-timing loser that’s fine for him. I just don’t ever want to see it.”

“Nor me,” Harry agreed firmly. “Ever again.” The corner of Ron’s mouth twitched. “What about you? Do you have a bo- a gir- er, are you seeing anyone?”

Ron stared into the ice cream for a minute. He seemed like he was fighting not to start shouting. “Me and Hermione have been together for over three years now,” he said finally.

“Really? That’s great!” Harry exclaimed. “I know you two have liked each other for a long time, I’m so glad you finally made it happen!” His smile faded when Ron continued to look angry. “Ron, you’re happy with her, right? I mean, it’s ‘mione, you’ve always been crazy about her…”

“I love her,” Ron said quietly. “I’m completely head over bloody heels in love with her.”

“Then- then what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Ron’s eyes blazed. “I’m in love, Harry! I’m completely, madly in love with Hermione! I’ve been with the girl of my dreams for three years! And you didn’t know!”

Harry stared in shock at the furious Ron. “R-Ron…”

“Hermione makes me happier than anything in the world! And I’ve gotten to share that with everyone I’ve ever known except my best friend!” Ron had risen to his feet, and Harry saw to his horror that Ron was crying. “Three years ago, when Hermione first kissed me, the first thing I thought of after she’d gone was how much I wanted to tell you, how great she made me feel; and when I realized I couldn’t it hurt so badly it nearly killed me. And every day since then…it- it’s hurt a little more.”

Ron collapsed onto his stool and buried his face in his hands. Harry sat staring at the top of Ron’s head, too stunned and too ashamed to say anything.

“Hermione…something’s not right with us,” Ron muttered eventually. “I don’t- she loves me, I know she does, but she won’t be with me, not completely. She holds back. And I don’t know why, she won’t tell me. For two years, I’ve been trying to figure it out. I- I wanted to talk to you about it. You’re the only other person who knows Hermione well enough to guess what’s wrong. Or at least…you would’ve been, if you hadn’t left.”

“I- I-” Harry couldn’t do any more than stutter helplessly. What could he say? He had left; he’d abandoned Ron when his best friend had needed him most.

“You know what really hurt the most?” Ron continued relentlessly. “It wasn’t that you betrayed us, that you used us; it was that note you left. You just- just gave up on us. You didn’t trust us to-” Ron squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “You thought so little of us, you didn’t even believe we’d be good enough friends to forgive you.”

“I still haven’t even forgiven myself, Ron,” Harry muttered torturously. “How was I supposed to believe you could?”

“Because that’s what friends do,” Ron snarled, training his eyes on Harry again. “Fourth year, when I was jealous about you getting into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, you forgave me. Third year, I forgave Hermione when I thought her blasted cat had killed Scabbers, and she forgave me for being a prat about it. Fifth year we all almost died in the Department of Mysteries, but none of us even blamed you, not for a second. How many times over the years did we get over all the little fights we had and move on?” He leaned back. “But when it was more important than ever before, you didn’t even give us the chance.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispered.

Another minute passed quietly, with Harry unable to formulate anything to say that seemed right. “So,” Ron said uncertainly, “d’you have any idea what might be going on with Hermione?”

Harry looked up at Ron in shock. “Y-you still want my opinion?”

“I just said so, didn’t I?” Ron said sharply. “I love her, and it kills me, not being able to give her what she needs!” He smiled ruefully. “You may have been gone for years, but you were still closer to Hermione than anyone before or since.”

“She never was very good at letting people in,” Harry acknowledged tentatively, and Ron nodded. “I used to wonder how she ever got to be our friends.”

“Seems to me there was a big troll,” Ron said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Harry said with a slight smirk. He grew quiet for a minute, his expression turning inward. Then he sighed. “Ron…I’d just be guessing, I just don’t know. I don’t know any of you well enough any more- talking to Neville proved that. In fact, other than the fact that Neville, Draco and G-Ginny are all apparently Aurors, I don’t even know what you’re all doing for a living!”

Ron stared at Harry like he’d grown another head. “Well, I’m in my first year starting for the Cannons.”

“Really?” Harry’s cheeks split in a grin. “That’s brilliant! How’re you doing this year?”

“We’re in third,” Ron said, sounding a bit ashamed. “But two of our starting Chasers got knocked out early in the season. Alicia Spinnet’s one of them, actually. They’re both due back next week, so we might pick up then. I’m doing pretty well Keeping, I guess – no complaints from the manager, anyway.”

“That’s terrific, Ron,” Harry said earnestly. He felt an incredible thrill hearing that his best friend had actually managed to get the job he’d always dreamed of. “I’d love to see you play. When’s your next game?”

In answer, Ron glanced over at the clock on the wall, which read a bit after ten. “Well, they might still be playing now.”

“What? But…shouldn’t you be there?”

Ron gave Harry a look like he was being particularly stupid. “You think I would’ve flown well tonight after finding you? I owled them and said a family emergency had come up.”

“Oh,” Harry said, flushing.

“Hermione’s about to finish University,” Ron continued, “and she’s been agonizing over whether to stay on for graduate work. I know she wants to, but she’s worried about money. I make a decent bit, but it’s been a bit tight after four years of her in school.”

Ron looked embarrassed; having grown up in a relatively poor family, he’d always been touchy about money. “But…what about the money from my vault?” Harry asked nervously. “I- I left a will with Dumbledore that left it all to you and ‘mione!”

“The will said we could distribute it as we saw fit,” Ron replied with a scowl. “We sent a bit to your Aunt and Uncle, but the rest is still there.”

“But I wanted you to have it! What the hell was I going to need it for? You should’ve used it!”

Ron obviously had some choice opinions about that, but settled for saying “Hermione agreed with me not to touch it. And now you’re back you’ll need it.”

Harry snorted. “If what Neville said is true, as soon as I show my face in the wizarding world again I’ll be buried in Galleons. Ron…I don’t need it, I don’t want it, and I want you to use it. I always did.”

“I guess…I could ask Hermione again, if you want.”

“I do. Please, Ron, take it.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Ron said hesitantly.

“Thanks. So…so what about Luna? What’s she doing?”

“Oh, her dad is still running the Quibbler, but he wants to retire, so he’s teaching Luna how to do what he does. I guess she likes it…she seems pretty okay, anyway.”

Harry wondered about that, considering how reserved Luna’s greeting had been, but he only said “That’s good. Umm…did anything else big happen that I missed?”

Ron ground his teeth, hard. “Hell, yes. You want all the nasty details?”

“I, uh…” Harry was sure he didn’t, but he nodded anyway. “What happened?”

“Two weeks after you left,” Ron muttered, “Death Eaters attacked the Burrow. We were just bloody lucky, it happened when Moody and Tonks were visiting. Even so, they put Mum, Charlie and George in the hospital. And the Death Eaters, they-” he gazed agonizingly at Garry. “Their leader was Percy.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “P-Percy…was a Death Eater?”

Ron nodded. “He died in the attack. Mum and dad won’t talk about it, not even now. But when I went to see mum at St. Mungo’s I heard them talking. Mum…she really loved you, like she loves us. She thought you were dead, and I heard her- she was afraid that maybe Percy had been the one…”

“Oh, hell.” Harry hadn’t thought it was possible to feel worse than he already did. “After everything your mum did for me…”

“Yeah,” was all Ron said.

“How can I come back, Ron? I just can’t do it! Everyone I hurt; all the people who mourned me, everything I left behind-”

“All the people you saved, the future you created!” Ron growled, interrupting him. “Don’t go all morbid, it’s stupid! People will get over it!”

Harry stared at Ron, chewing nervously on his lip. “Which people?” he asked finally.

Ron regarded Harry closely for a second. Then he dropped his gaze. “Probably most people,” he concluded.

Harry’s heart lifted slightly. If Ron was willing to give him a chance… “Ron, I’m sorry I can’t help you more with Hermione. I wish I still…”

“That’s okay,” Ron said sourly. “Thanks for trying, anyway.”

Another awkward moment of silence was more than Harry could take. “This is what I was afraid of,” he muttered.

“What is?”

“I- we used to be able to talk about anything, Ron. I knew this would happen… I’m scared to say anything to you!”

“Well what d’you expect, Harry? Nothing’s the same! Did you think we’d just be joking about our latest adventure like old times?”

“No,” Harry whispered. “But I’d hoped.”

“Yeah, well…I hoped that-” Ron cut himself off as the door swung open and Draco stepped in.

“Hmm,” Draco said, taking in Harry and Ron’s sober expressions with amusement, “everyone still on tenterhooks around you, Potter?”

“Shouldn’t you be catching up on some sleep, Malfoy?” Ron snapped.

“Probably, but I hardly ever sleep these days,” Draco said with a shrug. “Anyway, since Potter seems to be an insomniac as well, I can ask him a question.”

“Er…” Harry glanced nervously at Ron; part of him wanted to keep trying to talk with Ron, but mostly he felt relieved by the distraction. “I don’t know if-”

“One simple question, Potter. Easy enough, and it’ll be quick, I know how precious your time is.” Draco leaned over the table and glared fiercely at Harry. “Why me? Granger, Weasley and his sis, even Lovegood and Longbottom I get, but why me? Why was I in on your little Charm?”

“Malfoy, shut it!” Ron snapped.

“No,” Draco said calmly, his eyes never leaving Harry. “Potter, we loathed each other as much as any two people ever have. So what possessed you to want to force me into the sack?”

“You want the truth?” Harry said dully. “At first it was just for revenge. I got a little satisfaction knowing my enemy was helping me. But after a while…it got to be different. You were good at comforting, and the nights with you were as good as most others. And…” Harry blushed. “And you’re a good shag, Draco.”

Draco stared at Harry with an unreadable expression. Then suddenly he smirked hugely. “So says everyone I’ve ever shagged, Potter.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Ron said, standing. “When Malfoy’s sex life is the topic of conversation, I’m through. I’m going outside.”

“It’s starting to drizzle,” Draco said without apparent worry.

“So I’ll stay under the awning,” Ron said, glaring at Draco. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.”

“You sure you want to leave me alone with Potter, Weasley?” Draco chuckled. “Who knows what might happen this time.” Harry flushed again.

Ron stood and stared at Draco for a second. Then, with surprising speed, he fisted the front of Draco’s robes and slammed him back against a wall. “Malfoy,” he said in little more than a whisper, “in spite of everything, Harry is still my best friend. And after everything he’s been through, if you hurt him, I’m going to kill you. Not threaten you, not hurt you, kill you. Auror or not, I’ll find a way.”

“Can you see me shaking, Weasley?” Draco sneered, but there was a slight tremor in his voice.

Ron released the front of Draco’s robes and opened the door. He glanced back. “I’m serious, Malfoy,” he said quietly, and closed the door behind him.