Moonshadow And Lightning Shade III: The Final Gift

DISCLAIMER: All HP characters belong to JK, Warner, Scholastic, etc. etc. I merely have fun with them.

A/N: This is the third installment in my Moonshadow and Lightning Shade series, taking place approximately six weeks after Part Two. The song "Cuts You Up" is by PETER MURPHY and can be found on his 1989 album 'Deep'. Percy Weasley's nickname 'Pom' is from THE WORDS ENDING IN 'N' Series by Atalanta Pendragonne and Darragh Tieraneaux and belongs completely and solely to these two fine authors. Used here with permission.

WARNINGS: There have been multiple Character Deaths prior to the start of this fic. This is a Dark Fic, but has a happy ending of sorts.

Beta'd by Evil Auntie Snape. Thanks, Luv! And also to Ali for her kind input and support!

Of course, this fic would be best understood if Parts One & Two were read first.


~~~~~~~~~~~~


MOONSHADOW AND LIGHTNING SHADE III: The Final Gift


You know the way, it throws about,
It takes you in and spits you out,
It spits you out when you desire,
To conquer it, to feel you're higher,
To follow it, you must be clean,
With mistakes that you do mean,
Move the heart,
Switch the pace,
Look for what seems out of place.
On and on it goes,
Calling like a distant wind.
Through the zero hour we will walk,
Cut the thick and break the thin.
It's Ok. It goes this way.
The line is thin, it twists away.
Cuts you up,
It throws about, keep me walking but never shout.
It cuts you up.


Monday, 24 December 2007


Harry stood in the hallway outside the door to flat D, his breath suddenly rasping in his chest. He had been about to knock on the darkly stained, four-paneled door several times, but each time his fisted hand drew up to rap upon it, he stalled, hesitant, unsure. He was reluctant to do it, because once he had knocked on that door, that would be it. A sequence of events would begin to unfold, and they would continue, one after the next, to their inescapable conclusion. It would signify another ending, another death, as it were. As much as he knew he had to do it, as much as he knew it was necessary, Harry still found it exceedingly difficult to start the process.

"Fucking coward!" he cursed in a low voice.

A disgusted "Humpf" startled the green-eyed Wizard. He turned to see an elderly, blue-haired woman shuffling past him, severely over-burdened with a gigantic load of sacks and bags, no doubt last minute Christmas presents. The plump, wrinkled old Muggle scowled at Harry, her pale, gray lips a thin line.

Harry put on his most sheepish grin.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know anyone else was in the hallway."

The old lady snorted again. "Well, whether there's anyone out here or not, you should watch your language, young man! You should be ashamed, and on a night like this too!"

She shook her head so forcefully that she nearly dislodged her carefully arranged load of bags as she tottered on down the hallway. Harry could hear her muttering to herself as she struggled to unlock the door to her flat, which was next to D.

"Bloody young folks. Whole world's going into the dustbin! Poor parenting, what it is," she wheezed as her door clicked and squeaked open. She threw Harry another withering stare.

The Wizard barely suppressed a smirk.

"Happy Christmas," he offered lamely.

The woman stared at him a moment longer before snorting again and squeezing herself into her flat. The door slammed shut with a sold thwack, echoing through the empty hallway.

Harry snickered to himself as he once more gazed at the silent, mocking door in front of him. He absently noted that the old, scarred brass letter D was missing one of its mounting screws and was hanging slightly askew. Reaching up to straighten it out, Harry shivered as melted snow dripped onto the collar of his coat and down inside his shirt.

The weather had turned sharply colder the previous evening, and a light dusting of snow had greeted Harry when he had awakened late in the morning. The snow flurries had steadily increased throughout the day. Instead of Apparating to Percy and Oliver's, he had walked and taken The Tube. He had thought that the doing of it would help him prepare for the task ahead. Everyone, Wizards and Muggles alike, were annoyingly cheerful in espousing the virtues of a white Christmas. The sidewalks and Tube had been filled with last minute shoppers and travelers, almost all of which were in a disgustingly jovial mood. Harry mused that if he had had a galleon for each time someone had wished him a 'Happy Christmas' he would have amassed a small fortune. By the time Harry had trudged up the steps to the apartment block, a few inches of snow were already on the ground with no end in sight.

With a deep sigh, Harry closed his eyes to concentrate. He had rehearsed what he would say over and over again for the past six weeks. For some disturbing reason, his mind had now gone completely blank. Growling to himself, he opened his eyes again.

Bugger it all! Forget the speech! Just say what needed to be said, drop off the stuff, and get the hell out of there. The Dragon's Lair would be hopping later on, and Harry was in the mood for some nameless, faceless sex.

Drawing himself up, Harry rapped firmly on the door to flat D. After what seemed like an eternity, but was actually only a few seconds, he knocked again. And then again. Harry could hear noises behind the door, so he knew someone was home. He rapped on the door again, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Another door down the hall suddenly creaked open, and the blue-haired head of Percy and Oliver's cranky neighbor poked out to glare at him. Harry smirked evilly at her as he continued to knock firmly. The old woman muttered to herself, withdrawing inside her apartment and slamming the door quite loudly.

Harry was giggling to himself when he heard the soft clicks of the Muggle locks being pulled. An instant later, the door swung open.

Oliver Wood stood in the gap, looking down at Harry impassively. The green-eyed Wizard nodded innocently at the former Quidditch star. Wood looked as if he had dressed in a hurry. He was barefoot. His well worn, nicely fitting jeans were zipped but not buttoned. His Cannons t-shirt was somewhat askew, and his lovely auburn hair was definitely in need of a combing.

Harry cocked his head attentively, grinning warmly. His anxiety level had dropped considerably. Something about disturbing someone else's shag session seemed to have that effect on him.

Wood became aware of the rather pregnant pause and quickly ran a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth out the tangled locks.

"Harry."

"Wood."

Harry cleared his throat as Wood shifted from one foot to the other.

"Um, would you care to come in?" the tall Quidditch player offered hesitantly.

"That would be nice, Wood. It's rather cool in this hallway, and colder than a Witch's teat out there."

Wood smiled thinly. Nodding, he stepped aside and Harry brushed past him into the flat. Wood closed and locked the door as Harry shucked his jacket and draped it over the back of the sofa. Wood stood there, silent, his back to the closed door, while the green-eyed Wizard took in the small, but comfortable room.

A warm fire burned in the tiny hearth. Aside from the cushy looking sofa, there were a pair of old, mismatched armchairs opposite it. A thick piece of glass on what looked like some sort of tree stump formed the coffee table between the sofa and chairs. One wall was covered completely in tall bookshelves, which were overflowing onto the polished, hardwood floor. Two doorways were squeezed on either side of the shelves. One led to the kitchen, obviously. The other, the loo. There was a small desk on the opposite wall. Harry noted that Ron's laptop was sitting on it, open and running. Two closed doors flanked the desk. The walls were covered in a rather uneasy mix of Muggle art and Quidditch memorabilia.

A small, twinkling Christmas tree sat in one corner, a scattering of brightly wrapped presents beneath it. The charmed ornaments and lights were quite nice, but strangely, Harry seemed to prefer the Muggle strings of multi-coloured light bulbs. They simply seemed more Christmassy to him.

Harry started as he felt something threading between his ankles. Gandalf purred loudly, rubbing his little gray head eagerly against Harry's jeans. Wood was still observing him silently. The green-eyed Wizard nodded appreciatively.

"Very, very nice, Wood. Cozy."

Wood stepped away from the door, stopping to stand next to Harry.

"Yeah, we like it. Sorry for the mess," he said, gesturing at the mass of wrapping papers and associated materials. "Pom thinks we should just charm the wrapping onto the gifts, but I really enjoy actually doing it myself. Gets me into the spirit of things, you know?"

Harry snorted softly. "Yeah, right."

The black-haired Wizard stared at Wood in the ensuing silence. He had filled out nicely. Nearly a head taller than Harry, his broad shoulders and nicely shaped chest were nearly perfectly proportioned. He had nice arms, too. Just the right amount of muscle. Not overly developed, but not sinewy either. Wood's hips were a bit on the wide side, but he had a nice arse. And he seemed to have furred out, as well. A sizeable tuft of wispy brown hair poked out of the collar of Wood's t-shirt. He had nice eyes. Percy was lucky.

"Um, who's Pom?"

"Oh, that's my nickname for Percy."

Harry nodded. "Cute."

Wood sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

"You know, Harry, if we knew you were coming....."

Harry cut him off, taking a step closer to the taller Wizard.

"Yes, yes, it would have been polite and civil and all that bullshit, but how about we dispense with all the pleasantries? You know exactly why I'm here, Oliver. The quicker we do this, the quicker you can get back to whatever it was you and Percy were up to. K?"

Wood shook his head. "Sure, fine, Harry. But tonight? On Christmas Eve? Why now? Couldn't you have waited a few days?"

Harry snorted. "Look, I don't expect you to understand, Oliver, but it's not like I deliberately decided to barge in on your postcard Christmas shag. It didn't even register what day it was today until I was bombarded with a barrage of brainless well-wishers on my way here. I've been on special assignments for The Ministry continuously since mid-November."

The shorter Wizard turned to pace the small room, stopping to stare at the arrangement of pictures on the mantel.

"Bloody hell, Wood, I'm not an idiot. I know you're trying to get rid of me. How about we just get it over with? That way, I don't have to come back here and start this crap all over again. So, what do you say? Let's see some of that sodding Christmas spirit of yours, yeah?"

Harry thought that he could actually hear Wood's brain working it out. Gods, he was gorgeous but not very swift. That explained why he was with Percy. Harry rolled his eyes.

"He is here, isn't he?"

Wood nodded. "Yeah, Harry. He's here. And he's just starting to be more like himself. We don't want you to screw that up."

"We? Oh, you mean you and Percy? I see. So you're his self-appointed protectors? That's bloody rich! For fucks sake, Wood. Quit the sophomoric games. We're all grown-up now, yeah?"

Harry crossed over and flopped down into one of the armchairs. He fished about in the mass of magazines on the coffee table and pulled out the latest edition of Play Witch.

"I promise I'll play nice. I'm here now, so let's just get on with it."

Harry looked over at Wood out of the corner of his eye. The new Head Coach for the Cannons took a deep breath.

"Fine. I suppose you're right. I'll go get him. But if he doesn't want to see you...."

"He'll see me," Harry replied tonelessly as he flipped the glossy pages. "I know him, Oliver...."

Wood crossed over to one of the closed doors, cracking it open slightly. Harry couldn't see, but he plainly heard Percy's somewhat agitated whispers. After a few moments, Wood closed that door and knocked on the other. Harry heard it open and then close again. As he pulled out the magazine's centerfold, Gandalf jumped onto Harry's lap and began thrusting his little gray head right into the magazine. Harry chuckled and patted the purring feline a few times before shoving the cat off his lap to the floor. A second later, he heard a door open and close again. When Harry looked up, Percy was staring down at him imperiously.

The tall Weasley apparently wore glasses now. His tight, curly red hair had already begun to recede noticeably, exposing more and more of his forehead. He resembled his late father so much it made Harry wince. Percy's pale blue eyes glowed with intensity. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of baggy Cannons sleep pants. He'd filled out as well. But unlike Wood, Percy's chest, though broad, was undeveloped. There was a decided roundness to his rather notable belly.

Percy's balled fists were planted firmly on his hips.

Harry looked up and smiled sweetly.

"Wotcher, Perce. How's tricks?"

Harry snickered as the red-head tried to hold in his ample stomach. Percy drew himself up as best he could.

"I must say it is rather inappropriate for you to show up unannounced on our doorstep. Especially since you have never before graced us with your presence. Now, if you would be so kind, I would ask that....."

Harry began giggling loudly. He flopped the magazine down and stood up, looking directly into Percy's eyes.

"Oy, Oliver and I have already been through this. And you should know by now that I'm not kind. So at the risk of repeating myself, let's cut the crap. Let me get my business with your brother over with."

Percy drew in a deep breath to speak, but Harry put up his hand.

"Look, I know you've heard all the gory details from Ron. And he's mostly bang on. I'm a right nasty bastard. But one thing, Perce. No one forced him to stay with me for that long if he was so unhappy. We both need this, Perce. I know you understand."

Harry paused to let his words sink in. Percy's expression softened the slightest bit.

"Yes, of course I understand, Harry, but I'm not entirely certain that this is the best time...."

Harry waved his hand again, cutting the red-head off.

"Ron's a big boy. He doesn't need some kind of nanny. Now, you've done your bit as the protective big brother. Bravo. Full marks. C'mon, Perce. Don't make me come back here another time, yeah?"

Harry never removed his gaze from the shirtlessWeasley. Percy blinked a moment, nodding slightly.

"Very well, Harry. I can't dispute the logic of your argument. Ron needs closure. Best now than later, I suppose. But why on Christmas Eve?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just another day on the calendar, Perce, right?"

Percy frowned as he turned towards the closed door to Ron's room. Before he got there, it opened and Wood stepped out into the living room, followed by a blank looking Ron.

Percy whirled about, and for a few moments, three sets of eyes stared at Harry. The dark-haired Wizard raised a hand.

"Hi, Ron. I just brought by some stuff of yours that I've run across. There's a few things that need to be said, and then I'll be on my way."

Ron simply stood there, silent. Percy and Oliver glanced back and forth between the former couple nervously. Finally, Ron moved between them and past Harry, dropping into the sofa with a sigh. Harry paused a moment before lowering himself back into his armchair. Percy stepped forward, standing directly behind Harry's chair. Ron stared blankly at the green-eyed Wizard.

"Brilliant. Say what you need to say," Ron said tonelessly

"And make it quick, Potter. We've got plans this evening, right, Ron?" Percy quipped sharply.

Ron blinked a few times but remained silent. Wood walked up and clapped Percy on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince.

"Yeah, Pom. Why don't you get dressed. I'll get something to drink for our guest and join you in a minute."

The curly red-head shot Harry a final glance before padding away to his bedroom. The dark-haired Wizard leaned his head back over the top of his armchair.

"Nice to see you, too, Pom," Harry sneered.

Wood sighed, crossing in front of the fireplace and into the kitchen. The light clicked on and a clinking of glassware could be heard.

Harry stood up abruptly and crossed over to the sofa. Ron remained motionless as the short Gryffindor rooted about in his jacket pocket, pulling out a tiny sack. As he placed the shrunken bag gently on the cushion of the other armchair, he called into the kitchen.

"Hey, Oliver? If you don't mind, I'd like something a bit stronger than tea or butterbeer. Muggle beer or Firewhiskey would be fine, thanks."

The clinking in the kitchen stopped abruptly as Harry Engorged the sack back to its normal size. It was huge, and now barely fit in the large armchair. Ron eyed it knowingly. With a shake of his head, he called over his shoulder to Wood.

"Hey, Oliver? I 'd like a good stiff belt, too. There's some Ogden's in the top cupboard."

Harry was opening the sack and extracting some small, brightly wrapped boxes. Wood strode into the room, a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses set on a small tray. He put it down on the coffee table as Harry completed stacking the handful of presents. With a shove, Harry pushed them over to Ron's side of the table. The red-head reached over them to fill his glass with the amber liquor. He nodded at Wood, who was standing there eyeing both Wizards warily.

"Thanks, Oliver. For everything. Can you leave us alone for awhile, please?"

Wood nodded. "Ok, Ronnie. We'll both be in the next room if you need us."

"Thanks, luv. I'll be fine," Ron replied as he took a sip of his drink.

The Quidditch star lingered a moment more before leaving the pair and disappearing into the bedroom. Harry sat down in the empty armchair and filled his glass to the rim. Hefting the drink in Ron's direction, Harry took a heavy pull of the Firewhiskey.

"Happy Christmas," he spluttered as the liquor burned its way down.

The red-head remained silent, his bright blue eyes boring directly into Harry. Ron had let his hair grow. It was now tied into a short ponytail. He had also grown a rather respectable goatee. He looked good. But then, the youngest Weasley brother had always looked good to him. Breathtaking, more like. Harry sighed as he leaned back in his chair, bracing the bottoms of his boots on the edge of the coffee table.

"I like your hair that way. Quite fetching. And the beard. Very nice. Makes you look more distinguished."

And sexy, he wanted to add, barely stopping himself in time.

Bloody hell, he was here to close this wound, not flay it wide open again!

Ron gave no indication that he even heard the comment. He continued to stare at the dark-haired Wizard dispassionately.

Harry nodded at the large, open sack. "I've collected everything that you left in the house. Mostly old clothes and things. I would have gotten rid of most of it, but I didn't want to take the chance of chucking anything you might want to keep. There's a shrunken trunk from the garage in the bottom. A bit of Owl Post as well. Errol still thinks you live there. Also some stuff from the medicine cabinet. It misses you, by the way."

Harry finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. For the first time, Ron nodded.

"Thanks. That was thoughtful of you. Didn't have to do it, you know."

Harry chuckled. "Just the right thing to do. I know how much some stuff means to you."

Ron leaned back, his expression strained. "Well, nothing wrong with things having meaning. Better than the alternative, yeah?"

Ouch! That was a bulls-eye!

Harry actually winced noticeably.

Ron nodded at the small handful of gifts on the table before him.

"What are those?"

"They're for you. I've had them for months. I pick up Christmas presents year-round, when I can. You know that, Ron. I saw no reason for you not to have them."

Ron turned and looked out the window beside the fireplace. It was snowing very heavily now, the wind whipping the swirling flakes into frenzy of white.

"I don't want them. Return them and get your money back," Ron said softly, turning back to face Harry. The red-head's eyes were puffy.

"Oh, c'mon, Ronnie. Where's your Christmas spirit? It's about giving, yeah? Besides, I can't return any of this stuff. Just open them, we'll finish our drinks, and I'll get out of your hair. I don't want to mess up your plans with the happy couple."

Ron muttered something but Harry didn't hear it.

"What was that, Ron?"


"I said, we don't have any plans. You know how my brother is. Good intentions and all, but he's still completely Percy."

Harry snickered. "Yeah, I noticed. Getting a bit chunky, isn't he?"

Ron nodded, the barest hint of a smile finally coming to his lips. "Yeah. He whines all the time about gaining weight, but there's never a shortage of sweets about. He even ordered this set of slimming underwear from a Muggle catalogue. More like a men's girdle, really. And you don't ever want to mention his hair."

Both men laughed out loud, sipping their drinks and staring into the fire. A gust of wind rattled the window panes. Harry nodded to the gifts once more.

"Go ahead. Open the gold one first, Ronnie."

Ron swallowed as he leaned forward and set his glass down. He grabbed the rather large package and quickly stripped away the wrapping.

Harry chuckled, looking into the fire. Ron always ripped the paper away. Funny how you could count on some things. When Harry looked up again, Ron was running his hand over an oversize, black leather volume. The front cover featured beautiful, gold engraving in a fine, flowing script. Ron opened it, flipping through the blank pages. When he looked at Harry, he was smiling broadly.

Harry grinned too, in spite of himself.

"I got that for you to write in, when I was on assignment in the States this spring. The paper's hand made. Just like the cover. Some bloke in Texas, of all places, made it for me. And a friend of his engraved the cover."

"It's elvish, isn't it?"

Harry sipped on his drink, pointing at the volume.

"Yeah, the elves' writing from Lord Of The Rings. It says 'All Great Stories Begin With A Single Word'. That's how you started the last story you were writing, yeah?"

Ron was running his hand over the leather cover. "It's beautiful, Harry. And the inscription is perfect. Thanks. But I finished that story a week ago. I've started a new one....."

Ron tailed off, his eyes looking down. He carefully placed the volume on the coffee table.

Harry pointed at a long, thin package.

"Now that one."

Ron obediently tore the green paper off and opened the brown box to reveal a jet black feather quill.

Harry smirked.

"It's the newest Weasley Dict-A-Quill. Guaranteed 99.9% accurate or your money back. I kept the receipt on that one."

Both men chuckled as Harry proceeded to direct the red-head to the next present. Soon, Ron had an autographed Chudley Cannon's Jersey, an entire case of Deluxe Chocolate Frogs, and a Muggle instruction manual for Windows XP Professional 2007 stacked neatly next to him on the sofa. There were two more gifts.

"Open the envelope next, Ron," Harry instructed, leaning back and draining his second glass of Firewhiskey.

Ron's eyes goggled as he pulled out the parchments.

"Bloody Hell! Six pairs of tickets to next year's Quidditch World Cup! And just below the Minister's Box? Blimey, Harry! How did you manage this? There's no way Scrimgeour coughed these up for you!"

Harry shrugged.

"Well, let's just say the old bastard owed me one. Actually, he owes me a whole lot more than that. You can count on going to the World Cup every year for the next five years, Ronnie."

The green-eyed Wizard stood up and reached into the open sack, fishing about for a few moments. He extracted another thick envelope and tossed it at the red-head, who caught it neatly. Ron opened it up, riffling through the thick set of papers.

"This is incredible, Harry. I haven't seen a World Cup in person since Bulgaria vs. Ireland. I don't know what to say!"

Harry was smiling widely as he poured himself another whiskey.

"Nothing to it, Ronnie. Just enjoy it, yeah? I made sure you had enough tickets to take as many Weasleys as you want. And, you know, whomever else you might want to take."

Ron's head snapped up instantly.

"Oh, no, mate, one of these pairs of seats is yours! For you and, uh, your guest?"

Harry was shaking his head.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Ron. Those are all for you. Besides, you know I like watching the Matches on telly. Best seat in the house, I always say. Hey, it looks like you might just see Bulgaria in action again next summer. This is Krum's second year as Head Coach, and so far this season, they can't be beaten. He's really done well for himself, yeah? Have you been in touch with him lately?"

Ron nodded as he replaced the tickets and carefully sat the envelopes on top of his leather volume.

"Yeah, actually I spoke with Viktor today. I'm, uh, I'm Apparating to Sofia in the morning. He invited me to spend the Holidays with his family there. It'll just be Viktor, his Mum, and his sister and her husband. Nothing like the Weasley Orgy of family that we were used to, eh?"

Harry sniffed, nodding vigorously. His emerald green eyes were distant, unfocused.

"No, no, nothing like that, I guess. I loved spending Holidays with your folks," he mused quietly. "I really miss it. Them. But that's brilliant. Great, Ron, really. Krum's a good guy."

"Yeah," was all Ron could say.

"One more, Ron."

Harry pointed at a tiny silver box with black ribbon. Ron picked it up, shaking it next to his ear. Carefully untying the bow, the red-head gently removed the paper, revealing a hinged, black leather box. Opening it, the tall Gryffindor drew in a sharp breath.

"Oh, Harry."

Ron pulled out a white gold Joining Ring. Its entire outer surface was inscribed with Celtic symbols. Two names and a date were etched inside it. The red-head gazed at it closely, his eyes blinking back tears.

Harry took a deep swig of whiskey, pursing his lips as the liquid slid down his throat.

Ron was snuffling now. He took the ring and slid it on the second finger of his right hand.

It fit perfectly.

"It's just as beautiful as my first one. I made myself sick when I lost it. Is this one from same shop? It looks nearly identical. I thought you said the guy went out of business?"

Harry snorted.

"Yeah. Little white lie #1962. I don't think they count in regards to Christmas presents, though. Lemming still has a shop in Prague, but he's moved. I ordered it a month after you lost your ring. Lemming finished this one a month ago, but I didn't know until I got home yesterday. I Apparated over to pay for it and to tell him that we didn't need it anymore. But the old guy just stared at me and pushed it over the counter. He said it was on the house. He wouldn't hear anything else after that. I couldn't just leave it there, so I brought it home."

The dark-haired Wizard gulped down more of his drink before continuing.

"It seemed a shame to destroy something so beautiful. I couldn't do it, Ronnie, so I thought I'd give it to you and let you make up your mind. Pretty daft, yeah? Getting so worked up over a bit of metal."

Ron's response was nearly a whisper. "No, Harry, it's not daft at all. It's beautiful. Thank you."

Harry grinned.

"Well, it's not really officially a Joining Ring, ya know. It hasn't been activated or anything. Other than that, it's just like the one you lost."

An instant later, the red-head jumped up and moved around the coffee table. Leaning down, his hands on Harry's shoulders, Ron eagerly crashed his lips against the startled Wizard's. Harry immediately pressed into the kiss, sliding his tongue over Ron's lips, teasing the tip of the red-head's probing tongue. Harry brought his hands up and ran them down Ron's sides, moaning softly at the feel of the red-head's firm, slim torso. Ron continued kissing Harry with more and more intensity. The green-eyed Wizard bucked his hips upward, his rapidly stiffening cock swelling against the tight fabric of his jeans. Instantly sensing his partner's need, Ron reached down and ripped open Harry's button fly, firmly grasping the dark-haired Wizard's throbbing member and throttling it without mercy.

The red-head used his thumb to tease the slit of Harry's hyper-sensitive cock. Ron deftly swirled the precious pre-come about the swelled purple head of Harry's throbbing prick, eliciting stifled groans from the swooning, seated Wizard. Both men were now panting, gasping for breath as their hungry, swollen lips reveled in their contact. Ron began stroking Harry's length, breaking their kiss only long enough to murmur a lubrication spell. Harry slipped down in his chair, fumbling with Ron's jeans. Tearing open the button and ripping down the fly, Harry took a deep breath as his fingers found the wondrously hard form of the red-head's own rock-hard erection. He stroked Ron's cock rapidly, the feeling of the hardened flesh underneath the silky fabric of the red-head's underpants too delicious to stand.

Meanwhile, Ron had fallen to his knees. Taking a hand from Harry's shoulder, Ron pushed his jeans and underpants down below his hips. The green-eyed Wizard reached out and pulled the red-head to him, their throbbing lengths touching for the first time. Breaking their kiss once more, both men moaned rather loudly. Ron's lubrication charm was still working, so he began to thrust his cock against Harry's. The red-head knew that his partner was nearing orgasm. Harry was keening and gasping in ecstasy as Ron continued his assault. The red-head bent his head down and began licking and nibbling at the tender flesh of Harry's neck.

A moment later, Harry came, thick jets of come spurting between both men's bellies. The dark-haired Wizard cried out Ron's name as the red-head bit down hard on the flesh of Harry's neck.

"Ron, fuck me! I want you inside me, please?" the spent Wizard rasped out.

The red-head nodded, his own breath coming in gasps.

"Yeah, yeah, baby, but not out here."

Harry nodded and both men quickly stood up, somehow managing to stumble across the living room. The pair crashed into Ron's room, a tangle of arms, legs and partially removed clothing. They both struggled out of their shoes, socks and garments, ripping and tearing them in their erotic frenzy. An instant later, both men were naked. Harry threw himself at the taller, much larger red-head, forcefully grinding his re-hardening cock against Ron's upper thigh. The red-head cupped Harry's buttocks firmly, lifting the smaller Gryffindor up and off of the floor with ease. Crashing his swollen lips against his partner's, Ron found and eagerly nibbled Harry's bottom lip. The dark-haired Wizard was grinding his erection with a wild energy, moaning Ron's name the whole while. The thrumming of Harry's voice rippled into and though Ron's own mouth. The vibration was intensely stimulating.

The taller man walked both of them over to the bed, touching the edge of it with his knees. Ron then bit down hard on Harry's lip, causing the shorter Wizard to yelp with pleasure. Ron dropped him to the bed, quickly covering Harry with his own hot, sweaty body. The red-head's huge, hard cock was aching for stimulation. Sensing Ron's need, Harry turned the taller Wizard's head and began to lick, nibble and tease Ron's ear with his tongue.

"Do it, Ronnie. Fuck me hard," Harry hissed. "One last time."

"As you wish, Harry," Ron replied, his whisper evolving into a deep, throaty growl.

Ron pulled himself up into a kneeling position. Harry looked at him, flushed, eager, full of want. His beautiful emerald eyes were wild, blazing. The red-head yanked Harry's legs up, spreading them apart and bracing them against his own broad shoulders. Harry pushed his buttocks against Ron's hardened length, moaning and thrashing his torso about with abandon. Ron stroked his partner, finding Harry's entrance and deftly pushing the head of his cock against it firmly. The shorter Wizard gasped, thrusting himself backwards and pushing the tip of Ron's prick inside.

"Oh, yes, Ron! I want to feel all of you. Please, Ron!" Harry yelled, his voice growing hoarse.

Ron was now sweating and breathing hard. He reached down and pressed Harry's cock against the quickly drying spunk coating his belly. With firm even strokes, the red-head tortured Harry's swollen member as he thrust his own entire length into the smaller man.

Harry screamed Ron's name again, begging him to continue. The red-head obliged, slamming into Harry with increasing speed. The green-eyed Wizard grabbed onto the iron headboard with both hands, thrashing wildly as Ron continued his swift thrusts. Harry thought that he could take no more when suddenly Ron bellowed a deep, guttural growl, his cock fully imbedded. Both men wailed in unison as Ron emptied his hot seed inside his partner. Harry came again as well, his thick, hot release coating his stomach and chest. The red-head quickly withdrew, Harry gasping one final time.

Ron fell next to his partner, breathless. Both men pulled in air, gazing at each other in silence. After a few moments, Harry ran his hand through Ron's disheveled hair. Murmuring a cleaning charm, he rolled off of the bed and stood up. Ron watched as Harry quickly gathered up his clothes and dressed.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I love you, you know. I always have. And I always will. I just wish....."

Harry held up a hand as he struggled to pull on a boot.

"Oh, Ronnie. There's nothing to be sorry about. And wishing.....well, that doesn't do any good. We don't have to go over everything again. I think we both know what happened. I'm fucked up. I know it, but I can't seem to figure out how to un-fuck myself. I know I didn't get this way overnight. It took years. And it doesn't make sense to think that I'll be able to sort things out in a few weeks' time. I never meant to put you through hell, Ron. I'm lost without you, but that's the way it has to be. We both know that."

Harry finished with his first boot and pulled its mate from under the bed. He reached over and picked up the red-head's Cannons sweatshirt. Ron was standing up and pulling on his jeans.

"But it's not all on you, Harry. I knew how badly you were hurting from the get go. About Sirius. Dumbledore. Charlie, Ginny, Fred, Tonks. I knew you felt totally responsible for their deaths. I tried to help, but it didn't take long before I realized there wasn't a fucking thing I could do for you. At first, I blamed myself, but over the years, I started blaming you. I made you the villain. I was wrong for expecting you to act in a way that you just weren't capable of. And now I wonder if by staying that I didn't possibly make things worse. Like I was some sort of anchor, holding you back."

Ron pulled on Harry's Bloc Party t-shirt. The dark-haired Wizard was fully dressed, staring at the floor.

"Don't ever think that, Ronnie. As bad as I am now, I was worse when we first got together. If it hadn't been for you being there..."

Ron nodded, sitting on the bed.

"I hope I was good for you, Harry. I wanted to be. I know now that I had my chance with you back in the garden at The Burrow. But I didn't take it. I was afraid. In the end, I was a poor substitute for him. I don't think I've ever told you how sorry I was about Malfoy. Draco, I mean."

Harry sat down next to the red-head, his hand on Ron's knee. When he looked up, his eyes were wet.

"No, you never mentioned Draco before. But his ghost hung over us for nearly eight years, didn't it? No one could ever replace him, Ron. I never wanted you to be Draco. But I suppose I kept holding you up to an impossible standard. Easy to be perfect when you're dead, huh? They never make mistakes. Bollocks, I really fucked things up, didn't I?"

Ron cupped the shorter man's chin, turning Harry to face him.

"Hey, none of that shite, yeah, Potter? It took two to fuck things up this badly!"

Both Wizards laughed, pressing against each other tightly. After a minute, Harry pulled away, sighing.

"Well, I've got to get going. You probably need to finish wrapping presents or something. Plus, that's a long trip to Bulgaria tomorrow."

Ron nodded and followed Harry into the living room, where the short Wizard shrugged into his jacket. The red-head stopped dead in his tracks, snapping his fingers.

"Oy, hold on a sec, Harry. I almost forgot something."

Harry turned to look at the Christmas tree while Ron rooted about in his room. It really wasn't too bad. Just a little bland without all the twinkling, multi-coloured Muggle lights. A second later, the tall Gryffindor bounded into the room, his hands hidden behind his back.

"Sorry they're not wrapped. I can't believe I almost forgot about them."

Ron whipped his arms from behind himself and shoved two boxes into Harry's hands. One was a limited edition CD/DVD boxset from Nirvana, still sealed. The other was a brand new, state of the art programmable multi-function remote control for Muggle electronics.

"Oh, wow, Ron, where did you find this? It's been out of print for years!"

Realization dawned on Harry and both men chorused "George!" in unison.

"That is really brilliant, Ron. Thanks. And this remote looks absolutely killer."

"Well, at the rate you go through those things, I figured you could always use one. The clerk in the Muggle store said it was top notch."

Harry grinned from ear to ear as he shrunk the gifts down an placed them in his jacket pocket.

"Thanks, Ronnie. I love 'em."

Ron held up his right hand, the Joining Ring glistening brightly.

"Oh, your presents were the best. The ring is beautiful, Harry. Thanks!"

"You don't have to wear it you know...."

Ron cut him off, his voice quiet but firm.

"Yeah, I do."

Ron stepped in close, stroking Harry's cheek with the back of his finger.

Then, without warning, the tall Wizard reached down and grabbed Harry's right hand with his own. Quickly murmuring a spell, Ron made sure his new Joining Ring touched with Harry's. The shorter Gryffindor's eyes went wide as a warm glow began to emanate from the pair of rings.

"Shit, Ron! What the hell are you doing?"

The red-head clasped Harry's hand like a vise, murmuring the final incantation. Two circles of light floated up from the pair of rings, spinning rapidly. The circles grew and separated, joining into a long, thin, glowing strand. The stream of energy wrapped itself about the two men's joined hands, entwining around them again and again, binding them together. When it was finished, the glowing strands shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow before ingniting into a beautiful shower of sparks.

Ron grinned sheepishly, the final remnants of the charm falling harmlessly to the carpet.

"I just love watching the Joining Charm. The colours at the end always seem different."

Harry was shaking his head. "That was totally pointless, Ron. It doesn't mean a thing without a Ministry license."

Ron made a dismissive gesture. "I don't give a skrewt's bum about any sodding license. I just wanted my new ring to be like the old one, that's all. And now it is!"

"Bloody hell, Weasley, you never change."

Ron shrugged, rolling his eyes.

"Hey," he started brightly, "I've got a great idea! Why don't you come along with me to Sofia tomorrow? I know for a fact that Viktor wouldn't mind a bit. His Mum is really cool, and you'd love his sister and......."

The red-head tailed off when he noted the minute shake of Harry's head.

"Thanks, Ronnie, and as much as I'd like to see Krum again and meet his family, this isn't the time. Maybe some other trip? I'd just be in the way. You and Viktor need to get re-acquainted without me hanging about. It's time we both got back on track, yeah?"

Ron nodded, pulling the dark-haired Wizard into a tight embrace. Harry could feel Ron's chest start to hitch. Harry hugged the tall Gryffindor with all his might, hoping to somehow transfer his faith to Ron in the process.

"I love you, Harry," Ron squeaked out.

"Me too, Ronnie. Me too," Harry whispered into the Gryffindor's chest.

Ron squeezed Harry for a few minutes longer, obviously reluctant to let go. The red-head finally released the shorter Wizard, who glanced about the cozy flat once more before turning away. Opening the heavy old door, Harry stepped out into the hallway. Ron stood there, hands jammed into his pockets, eyes bleary and bloodshot.

Harry sighed.

"Thanks, mate. For everything."

Ron nodded, sniffling, struggling valiantly to maintain his composure. Harry smiled bravely and quickly turned to head down the hall to the stairs. He heard footsteps running up behind him. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, gently stopping and turning him around. Harry looked up into Ron's tear-streaked, smiling face. Ron reached down and kissed the green-eyed Wizard softly on the forehead.

"Please, Harry. Take care of yourself. I couldn't bear to lose you again, yeah? It'd just kill me. I need you in the world, Harry. Get yourself sorted. But be good to yourself, hear? No one on earth deserves that more than you do. It's all up to us, yeah? We're all free to choose our own path. Promise me now, Potter!"

Harry swallowed, nodding.

"I promise, Ronnie. Now get back inside before that old bag neighbor of yours pokes her head out and frowns at us or something."

The tall Gryffindor sniffled, wiping his red nose with the back of his hand. He obediently trotted back to the flat. Harry stood there, watching as Ron gave him a feeble wave from the doorway. Harry gestured for Ron to shut the door. With a final nod, the red-head disappeared inside and the door closed with a thunk. The locks slid into place and all was silent in the deserted hallway.

Harry stood still for a moment before releasing a deep breath. Strangely, there wasn't the emotional outburst that he had been expecting. His eyes stung and a few hot tears were rolling down his cheeks, and there was suddenly a deep dark hole burning in his chest. But he could see, and think, and breathe, and that was a good thing.

He had done it. He had knocked on that door and set the wheels in motion. One door closes and another opens. It was the way of things. And it was cool.

Harry buttoned his jacket as he pushed through the door into the stairwell. As he jogged down the four flights of stairs, Harry took deep breaths. It had to happen. Harry loved Ron with all his heart, but until he exorcised his demons, he would never be whole enough for anyone, let alone himself. Harry realized just then that part of his grief and anger stemmed from the fact that not only had he himself been languishing, but that he had also been dragging Ron down with him.

And Ron had to be freed from the obligation of caring for The Boy Who Lived. Ron had to be free to love and be loved by a whole and complete person. He and Krum would make a perfect couple. This was the only way for that to happen. To even have a chance of happening.

Reaching the ground floor, Harry bounded out of the stairwell, through the double doors and onto the snowy front stoop of the apartment block. The snow had stopped and the sky was crystal clear, filled with dazzling a array of stars. It was the kind of piercingly clear sky that happened only on those frigid winter nights. Almost as if you had to pay a tithe of warmth in order to enjoy the rare spectacle. Harry slowly descended the steps, the fresh snow crunching under his feet. The air was cold, sharp, but invigorating. The city street was quiet, deserted, covered in a thick blanket of white. The sound of the far-off traffic was greatly muffled.

Harry reached the bottom of the steps, standing in the snow-covered sidewalk. Looking up and down the street, he could see various and sundry Christmas trees, twinkling behind frost-covered windows. Taking another achingly deep breath of fresh air, he stared up at the stars once more, easily making out the vast, bright disc of the Milky Way.

Be good to yourself!

Twisting his head about, Harry looked up and saw a familiar, red-headed form waving to him from a fourth-story window.

We're all free to choose our path!

Harry waved back, smiling broadly, Ron's words echoing in his mind. Bloody hell, he really loved that man. More than anything. And Harry loved him enough to let him go. How did that damned Prophecy go again? Neither could live while both survived? Well, they were both done surviving. Ron was free to start living now, and Harry owed it to his life-long friend to do the same. And there was no way on earth that he would let Ron down. Ever again.

Free to choose!

Harry waved until Ron turned away and moved from his sight.

Perhaps that was the greatest gift either one had given that night. The gift of freedom. The gift to be and choose and live and love. Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

"Free," Harry said firmly.

Nodding, he walked briskly down the snowy street towards the Tube Station. He wanted to get home early and get a good night's rest.

Tomorrow was a brand new day.


EPILOGUE

Saturday, 21 December, 2013


"We absolutely do not need another broomstick, Viktor. You've even got one hanging in the lav."

Ron Weasley-Krum rolled his eyes as his husband put on his best 'puppy dog' face.

"So? Never know when you will be needing good broom. Always sensible to have one handy," Viktor stated matter-of-factly, blinking his warm brown eyes innocently.

Ron sighed, folding his arms across his chest, shaking his head.

"Handy for what? Flying from room to room? And don't think I don't know about you and Dimitri brooming about in the house. No, Viktor. I've got to stop the madness! Enough is enough!"

The stocky Quidditch coach pressed close to his tall red-head, running a meaty hand across Ron's tight arse.

"Oh, is such simple thing. What is one more? Is Firebolt Mark III. Need to try out for team, yes? Please, my lion? I make worth while for you," Krum purred throatily.

The Bulgarian ghosted his other hand across the front of Ron's jeans. The tall Gryffindor started nervously.

"Great Circe, Viktor, we're in public," Ron hissed, jerking his head from side to side to see if anyone else in the shop was looking in their direction.

Krum pressed closer to his lover, giving Ron's right buttock a firm squeeze.

"Oh, yes, make it worth your while. One broom only, yes?" Krum literally growled the last few words.

Ron squeaked shrilly, jumping away from his grinning Bulgarian.

"Bloody hell, get your blasted broom! Better that than getting charged with public indecency!"

Krum beamed, leaning up to give his lover a quick peck on the cheek.

"You are being best husband Wizard could have. Easy, but best."

Ron rolled his eyes as Krum gestured for a clerk to ring up the sale. As the Bulgarian moved off, Ron threaded his way through the rather stuffy shop. Four days before Christmas, and Diagon Alley was packed. Quality Quidditch Supplies was no exception. Ron and Viktor rarely returned to London, but when they did, the hunky Quidditch coach always insisted on a visit to the shop. Ron pressed his way through to the Chudley Cannons section. He wanted to get Dimitri some stocking stuffers. No doubt Viktor would have already purchased a ton of merchandise featuring the Sofia Sirens. It was Ron's duty to see that there was balance in the universe.

Grinning, the tall red-head grabbed a nearby basket and began filling it with Cannons stuff.

"Oy, everyone knows that the Cannons couldn't block a hobbled quaffle with a ten foot wide bat!"

Ron whirled about, ready to let loose upon the unbeliever with deadly force. His blue eyes went wide, a huge grin threatening to split his face wide open.

"Harry! By the Gods!"

The tall Gryffindor dropped his shopping basket and grabbed the dark-haired Wizard by the shoulders, shaking him good-naturedly.

"Oh, Harry! It's so good to see you! Blimey, you look great! What this, no glasses? Very nice!"

Harry smiled bravely, nodding vigorously.

Ron took in his old friend's new appearance. Harry's ebony hair was now quite long. It was tied back into a long, luxuriant ponytail. Ron noted that there were many streaks of grey in Harry's hair. His green eyes sparkled brighter than ever without glasses to hide them. And the lightning bolt scar was gone. The shorter Wizard was wearing a simple leather riding jacket with a black t-shirt underneath. He still wore his favorite uniform of Muggle jeans and black boots.

He looked fabulous. But there was something very different about his former lover that the red-head couldn't quite put a finger on.

Ron stopped shaking him, only to pull Harry into a crushing embrace. The shorter Wizard wheezed loudly.

"Hiya, Ronnie! Now I think I need to go to St. Mungo's for some lungs that aren't quite so crushed!"

Viktor's deep voice boomed across the shop.

"Is some sort of Hogwarts reunion? Didn't see sign. Good day, Harry!"

The muscley Bulgarian smiled broadly, clapping Harry on the back as he passed, moving to throw his arm around Ron's shoulders. The red-head was grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh, this is just brilliant! It's been what, six years? Not a day goes by that I haven't thought of you, mate. I sent some Owls, but I never heard back."

Harry nodded, shrugging. "I did get a few of your letters, Ron. But we move around so much, it's hard for the poor birds to find us."

The tall Gryffindor's blue eyes went wide. Ron exchanged a smile with his husband. Krum wagged his bushy eyebrows.

"See? I have been telling worry-wart here that you are not being alone. Was he always this fussy?"

Harry grinned, stifling a giggle. "Yeah, our Ronnie's always been a bit high strung."

Ron frowned, crossing his arms. "Standing right here. Can hear everything," the tall red-head pouted.

Krum and Harry snickered as Ron shook his head, trying his best to appear mortally wounded.

"So very funny. Now Harry, where's this mystery man of yours?"

Krum squeezed Harry's shoulder as the green-eyed Wizard craned his neck, straining to see over the displays and milling customers. After a moment, Harry stood on his toes, waving wildly across the crowded shop. Ron and Krum peered around each other to catch a glimpse of Harry's partner.

"There he is," Harry beamed, jerking his head to indicate the approaching Wizard.

Harry's lover was dressed almost exactly as he was: black t-shirt, leather riding jacket, blue jeans and black boots. Not as tall as Krum but taller than Harry, the brown-eyed Wizard was powerfully built, with very broad shoulders and a barrel chest. His waist was incredibly slim. His hair was a shoulder-length, greyish brown. He smiled easily, his square, clean shaven face full of warmth. There was a noticeable hint of mischievousness there as well.

As Harry's lover strode into their little circle, Ron noted the huge, deep ugly scar that ran down the entire right side of his face, from brow to chin. It looked fresh, raw, angry. Krum pressed close to his husband, squeezing Ron's shoulder.

Harry beamed as the stocky Wizard hugged him tightly.

"Ron, Viktor, this is Yuri Janowicz. Yuri, Ron Weasley-Krum and ..."

Before he could finish, Yuri turned, bowing slightly to Krum.

"Quite an honour, to be sure. There aren't many that don't know the great Viktor Krum. Best Quidditch Seeker of all time, at least in my book."

Yuri bowed even lower.

Harry sighed. "I just hate it when he does this," he whispered into Ron's shoulder.

Ron snickered as Yuri punched Harry's arm. Krum accepted the compliment gracefully.

"Honour is mine, Yuri. Ah, let me see. Slovenian, yes?"

Yuri nodded. "Guilty. I spent a lot of time abroad, mostly in Britain. That's why I sound more like them," hooking a finger at the two Gryffindors.

Suddenly, everyone began talking at once. Other customers in the shop began pressing against the four friends. Krum motioned towards the front of the shop. After a decidedly difficult journey, the small group stood outside in the main street.

"How about a nice cuppa? We can do a little catch up," Yuri offered.

"Butterbeer is good," Krum added.

"Firewhiskey!" Harry and Ron chorused in unison.

"Only one place nearby with all that," the stocky lycan stated. "Shall we?"

A few minutes later, the four friends were sitting in a comfy, out of the way booth in The Leaky Cauldron. Old Tom moved a bit slower these days, but he provided the boisterous group with an overflowing platter of meats, cheeses and fruits on the house. The drinks flowed smoothly as Harry and Yuri related how they had come together.

After the night on Christmas Eve nearly six years ago, Harry had taken a leave of absence from The Ministry. He spent many months just traveling and simply enjoying the endless march of days. It was in those early weeks of solitude that Harry had his vision corrected and the lightning bolt scar removed. Feeling refreshed and more like himself than he had in years, Harry had decided to look up Remus and Bill in Egypt. That was where the young Wizard first met Remus' old friend Yuri. Harry and the Slovenian fell together easily, managing to fall in love in a matter of weeks. The two had been together ever since.

Harry leaned against his lover, taking a long sip from his glass.

"And you should know that Yuri's a werewolf. Just so it's sorted, yeah?"

Ron's eyes went wide as Krum nodded knowingly, downing his second butterbeer.

Harry returned to The Ministry shortly thereafter, transferring to the Department of Mysteries.

Ron grinned at the notion that he actually knew an Unspeakable.

Harry had even managed to secure a 'Special Consultant' position for Yuri at The Ministry. They had purchased and renovated the old cottage at Godric's Hollow, but rarely spent any time there. The Ministry sent them all over the globe researching strange events and happenings. Most times they were dead ends. But the alligator creature in South Florida and the giant serpent in a remote lake in Kenya had been all too real. Harry had the scars to prove it. In their off times, Harry still listened to his music while Yuri researched the nature of Lycanthropy. And they spent many hours on Sirius' old Indian motorcycle.

Harry and Yuri were in London for a debriefing at The Ministry.

Ron exchanged many long glances with his former lover. Just looking at Harry made him grin like a stupid first-year. There was something about the green-eyed Wizard that was impossible to pin down. It was just emanating off him in waves. It wasn't a bad thing, but it was there. Real. Palpable. Unavoidable. Harry merely smiled, looking happy. Ron had to shift in his seat repeatedly, continually willing his suddenly attentive cock to relax.

The discourse eventually shifted to Ron and his husband. Of course, Krum wanted to go on about his team, but the red-head did his best to keep the conversation on track.

Ron had visited Krum and his family on Christmas Day in 2007, remaining there for a few weeks, taking his own leave of absence from The Ministry. He and Viktor were Joined early that following summer. Ron relocated to Bulgaria, moving into Krum's family home in Sofia, the capital. Krum helped find Ron a position in the Bulgarian Wizarding Bureau. They adopted a two-year old boy, Dimitri, on Christmas Eve, 2008. Early the next year, Krum's sister Anna offered to carry a child for the Wizard couple. Harry Arthur Krum was born in September, 2009. He had bright red hair, of course.

Harry grinned from ear to ear, clearly taken that Ron and Krum had named their son after him.

Krum had given up his coaching position for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team right after little Harry's birth to take an Assistant Coaching position with the Sofia Sirens. It was a slight downward step, but it allowed the proud Bulgarian father to spend less time traveling abroad and more time at home with his husband and sons. Ron enjoyed his job in the Muggle Relations Department of the Wizarding Bureau. It was amazing how much he had picked up from his own father and Harry about Muggles. It was a rather normal, everyday Wizarding life, and seemed to be just what Ron wanted. Best of all, it revolved around Quidditch.

The only problem was that Ron seemed to be the lone Chudley Cannons fan in Sofia.

After a time, Yuri and Krum fell into a deep conversation about Eastern Europe and werewolves. Ron and Harry chatted for a short while about the weather and the upcoming Holiday. Harry noticed that Ron was staring at him, smiling.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just looking."

Harry smiled. "Ok, I give up. I have some food on my chin or something, yeah?"

Ron shook his head, downing his last gulp of Firewhiskey.

"No, nothing like that. I was looking at you, and it's like I'm seeing you for the first time, Harry. I've never seen you look happier. It just pours out of you. That's so cool, mate."

Harry actually blushed, looking down at the table.

"Oh, shut it, you sentimental old git. But I am happy. Thanks to Yuri," the dark-haired Wizard offered softly, "And you, Ronnie."

The red-head made a rude noise, shaking his head. Harry nodded, continuing.

"It's the thruth. I never forgot what you told me that night, Ronnie. You saved me, you know. In every way that a person could be saved. You told me to be good to myself. To choose my own path. And I did. Thank you, mate. I wouldn't be sitting here if it weren't for you."

Ron rolled his eyes, suddenly becoming quite sniffly.

"Now who's getting all sentimental! Old age creeping in, yeah?"

Tom had brought a fresh round of drinks, and the two Gryffindors raised their glasses in a toast.

"To old age," Harry offered.

"The Cannons in the Cup!" Ron countered, causing Harry to splutter most of his sip all over the table.

"You never give up on anything, do you, Weasley?" the dark haired Wizard wheezed.

Ron remained silent, simply locking his sky blue eyes on Harry and shaking his head.

Harry nodded knowingly. "And thank Merlin for that."

Both men sat in silence a moment. Their partners were chatting away like long lost brothers. Harry broke the silence, gesturing at Ron's very long hair. The tall Gryffindor's fiery red locks framed his face like a wild mane, reaching half-way down his back.

"Your hair looks great like that, mate. Awesome, actually."

"Thanks. Viktor likes it this way. I always wanted to grow it long, but you know Mum and her thing for haircuts."

"How's your Mum doing?"

"Fine. Really good. Still shuttling between living with Bill and Remus in Egypt and Fleur and their kids in France. She came to Sofia for a week last August. Same old Mum."

"And Percy and Oliver?"

"Perce is still at The Ministry. Same poncy git he always was. Just a bit less hair and more about the waist than you might recall."

They both giggled, taking sips of whiskey.

"Oliver is hanging on as Head Coach of the Cannons. They break .500 every season now, which is really saying something. We chat a lot. They'll both be at our place this Christmas. George is coming too."

Harry brightened. "And how is George?"

Ron smiled. "Great. He's re-opening the Wheezes sometime next year. He's got a new partner. Neville!"

Harry sat back in his seat. "Go on! Neville? Really? And George?"

"Sure as I'm sittin' here, mate. Merlin's honest truth. It was Neville that pulled George out of his funk. Tell you what. You don't ever want to cross Longbottom."

Harry nodded, leaning back against the wooden booth. His emerald eyes were intensely bright, penetrating. Ron blinked..

"What?"

"Just looking at you, mate," Harry drawled smoothly.

"And?"

"And you're absolutely fucking gorgeous," the smiling Wizard finished.

Ron shook his head. "C'mon, Harry....."

Harry nodded, leaning forward, propping his elbows against the table.

"And you're happy, too. I can smell it, Ronnie. That means so much to me knowing that you're happy."

Ron blinked, his brain struggling against the liquor as he strained to work out the details. Harry grinned knowingly. Ron looked over at Yuri, and the Slovenian was absently stroking the side of Krum's face. The red-head jumped as he felt the tingle of Harry's fingers tracing along the ridge of his chin. The dark-haired Wizard's eyes literally glowed in the dim candlelight of the booth.

And like a thousand suns exploding, realization struck Ron, filling him with understanding. Harry seemed to sense Ron's epiphany.

"Yeah, Ronnie. It's true. I'm a werewolf."

Ron blinked, stunned yet not, at once happy for his friend but also the slightest bit envious.

Harry leaned forward, nodding.

"No worries! It's fucking awesome! You have no idea. And you need to know that I wanted this. It was my choice, no one else's. Just like you told me. We're free to choose. And this is the path I wanted to follow. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I did. Thanks to you, Ronnie."

Ron stared into his friend's green eyes for many moments. Glancing to his left, the red-head saw that Krum and Yuri were nearly face to face, still chatting away energetically. When he looked back to his friend, Harry's eyes were now golden, luminous. Ron gasped as his friend smiled an incredibly toothy smile.

"Just know I'm happier than I ever could have imagined. I wish you could see what I see under the moon. The colours, the sounds, the smells! You'd love it, I know. And with Snape's new Wolfsbane Potion, you keep the best part of your self for your wolf. It's incredible, Ronnie," Harry finished breathlessly.

Ron swallowed.

"I don't know what to say, Harry. This is a bit much. But considering that it's you, I shouldn't be surprised. But honestly, becoming a werewolf?"

"Free to choose," Harry replied simply.

"Yeah," Ron responded.

Harry reached across the table and pulled Ron's hand to his lips. Gently, he kissed the red-head's knuckles, sucking and laving them with his tongue. Harry carefully dragged the sharp edges of his teeth across the skin of Ron's hand. The tall Gryffindor drew in a hushed breath as his lycan friend nibbled at his flesh a bit more forcefully.

"Harry," Ron breathed.

The dark-haired werewolf closed his eyes, biting down on Ron's skin with increasing intensity.

"Run with us, Ron. I know you want to. I can almost taste it, pouring off of you like sweet wine. Your wolf needs to be free. Say the word and you will be one with us. With me. And Yuri. One little word is all it takes, Ronnie."

The red-head trembled, suddenly feeling detached from reality. Harry's words rang true, reverberating through him like thunder. He did want it. He wanted to be with Harry, wild, free, like the wind. A child of the night, at one with the moon. But it was not to be. How could he become one with the dark?

Ron thought of Dimitri and Harry Arthur. No, not now. Not yet.

But perhaps someday.

Someday he could walk that path.

Until then....

Ron sighed as he pulled his hand away from Harry's lips.

The short lycan's eyes were once again their familiar emerald green. Harry winked.

"I love you, Ron. Never forget that, yeah?"

"Never, Harry. Same goes for you, right?"

"Always, mate."

Ron grinned and held up his right hand, wiggling his ring finger.

"Geez, Ron. You still wear that thing? But you're with Viktor now. Surely he would want you..."

The tall red-head beamed, taking a quick sip of whiskey.

"Viktor doesn't wear jewelry, anyway. He's Ok with it, Harry. I'm with him now, and I love him with all my heart, but I'll always be joined with you. I always have been. And I always want to be. There's no way I'll ever take this off. It's all I have to remind me of the good times we had. It's beautiful and I love it. Shouldn't that be enough reason to keep it?"

The dark-haired lycan grinned, sipping on his Firewhiskey.

"It really worked out fine, didn't it?"

Ron looked over at Yuri and Krum, smiling.

"Yeah, bloody perfect, I'd say."

Both Gryffindors chuckled, downing the last of their drinks. Ron reached out and grabbed Harry's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"How did you know? About me, I mean."

Harry grinned widely.

"I know you, Ronnie. I've never known anyone better. Besides, I'm The Boy Who Lived To Become A Werewolf, remember?"

The red-head shook his head, smiling.

"Rain check, yeah?"

"Any time," Harry whispered.

The two Gryffindors fell silent while their partners gabbed on for awhile longer. Eventually, they were the last patrons remaining. Tom shooed them out into the chilly street. Krum invited Harry and Yuri to Sofia for Christmas, and the two lycans agreed. After a round of hugs and kisses, Harry enlarged Sirius' cycle. He and Yuri rode away down the narrow street in a cloud of oily smoke. Ron and Krum watched them fade into the misty evening.

The stocky Bulgarian hugged his husband tightly.

"They are good together. Not often werewolves get along so well. They are lucky."

Ron blinked.

"You knew Harry was a werewolf? How?"

Krum rolled his eyes.

"My lion forgets I grow up around lycans. Knew right away when I saw Harry. Dark Gift works perfectly in some. Has always been wolf deep inside, I think. Now in harmony. Some are born into it, others find Gift along way. Why did you not accept Harry's offer?"

Ron stood there, gobsmacked, his mouth working silently. Krum caressed the Gryffindor's long face gently, pressing his muscular body against the tall red-head.

"You will be remembering that I find lycans very attractive? I sense you are much like Harry. Beautiful wolf inside, I think. I support any choice you make, my fiery lion. Long ago, it common to receive Gift. An honour. You need to see path destiny has chosen for you, my love."

The red-head shook his head.

"But Viktor, the boys. The Bureau. I don't see how it could work."

Krum grinned, grinding his hips into his husband's.

"With love, anything possible. Many lycans have families. Remember cousin? Married with five children. All healthy and happy. Wolves not solitary beasts, Ronnie. They need their mates to run with them. Is natural. And lycans never harm family. So, plenty of time to decide. We will see Harry and Yuri again at Christmas. Would be perfect time for most rare gift, yes?"

The tall Gryffindor reamined silent as the two lovers walked slowly down the deserted street, holding each other tightly against the chill wind. A few wayward snow flakes began to swirl down from the cloudy sky.

Ron trembled as he recalled how Harry's golden, werewolf eyes had pierced right through him, seeing all, knowing.

There was no one else alive that knew him deep down like Harry did.

And his lycan friend was right. Ron wanted the Gift. He supposed that he always had. Somewhere deep down inside, he knew that now.

He'd just been afraid to take the first step.

To walk that path.

"So, you really wouldn't mind being bonded to a werewolf?"

Krum smiled broadly.

"No, my lion. Not mind at all. If what you truly want, then it should be. Life too short to worry. We need to be good to selves. Best gift of all, yes? And you might end up bonded to lycan as well."

Ron finally began to understand, a smile spreading across his face.

"Free to choose?"

Krum nodded. "Yes, my love, free to choose."

~fin~