I Wanna Know What Love Is

[roelliej.livejournal.com]

Title: I Wanna Know What Love Is
Author: Roelliej
Ship: Ron/Harry
Word Count: 927
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst,drama,bad language.
Summary: Harry has to deal with his love pains and the loss of a beloved one.
A/N: Many thanks to Hedwig's Bane for beta-ing :D. This one can be read at the end of OOTP. Hope you'll like it.

 

“I’ve had enough of it!”

 

Harry Potter sat in the Gryffindor common room, together with his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and he was extremely pissed off. He was watching outside a window, while his friends threw worried looks at him.

 

“Please calm down, Harry,” said Hermione, while she tried to get up from her chair. She wasn’t fully healed yet. Antonin Dolohov did some serious damage with his Slice Hex. No vital organs were hit, but she had to take a lot of Healing Potions to stop the internal bleeding. She took a goblet, filled with Ibobruvin Potion, and drank from it. From the look on her face, it tasted horrible. “It’s over for now. You must rest. You haven’t slept for days!”

 

“Sleep! Why the bloody fuck should I sleep?” shouted Harry.” Vol…”

 

“Don’t say his name!” said Ron, while waving his bandaged arm. The brains in the Brain Room left deep cuts in his arms, and they wouldn’t fully heal.

 

“…demort manipulated my mind the whole goddamn year,” shouted Harry, blind with fury. “He tricked me into going to the Ministry, walking into his trap. I’m responsible for Sirius’ death and for the Death Eaters hurting all of you.”

 

He looked Ron right in the eye and regretted his outburst immediately. He shouldn’t be shouting and raging at his two best friends, whom he loved more than anyone. Harry cared for Hermione like a sister, but his love for Ron went much deeper than friendship. Since the day he’d met him on the Hogwarts Express, he was all Harry could think of. He wished he could express his feelings for his best friend.

 

 “How’s Ginny, Ron?” he said, trying to forget his thoughts.

 

“She’s fine. Nothing Madame Pomfrey couldn’t fix,” said Ron nervously.

 

“That’s fine,” said Harry shortly. He wanted to be alone. He had to think.

 

“What did Dumbledore say?” said Ron nervously.

 

“Don’t talk about him!” spat Harry, but felt extremely guilty when he saw the tormented expression on Ron’s face.

 

“Sorry…” Harry mumbled. “ I-I’m really tired now. I’m going to bed.”

 

He stood up, and without saying anything, he went upstairs to the dormitory to lie down on his bed. He wasn’t tired at all, just frustrated. His godfather was dead, killed by his own cousin. Harry felt responsible for his death, but it was Dumbledore’s fault, too. He was too late to save him. He could have prevented it. Dumbledore could have killed Bellatrix Lestrange with his arms tied behind his back. He wished he had. He wanted her to suffer, but the harlot escaped. Dumbledore had let her escape.

 

Harry could feel nothing but hatred for his headmaster. Why hadn’t he told Harry earlier about the prophecy that marked him as either victim or killer? Why all the secrets? What else was Dumbledore hiding from him? Was it possible that Sirius’ death was merely part of some bigger plan that Dumbledore was withholding from Harry? He screamed in rage, took a vase from the cupboard near his bed and threw it against the wall, smashing it into thousand pieces.

 

 

 

“Harry, you want something to eat? I brought you some chicken soup.”

 

Harry looked up and saw Ron standing in the doorway. He hadn’t heard him entering.

 

“Yeah, thanks, Ron,” said Harry, while he felt his face reddening. Ron looked so nice when he was nervous, with his ears scarlet like blood. “Sorry for…”

 

“Don’t mention it, Harry,” said Ron. “I hated that vase anyway.”

 

Harry smiled a little while eating his chicken soup. He didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t talk with Ron about his true feelings for him.

 

“Everything all right, Harry?” Ron asked worriedly, interrupting the aching silence.

 

“Fine,” lied Harry. He was, in fact, feeling horrible.

 

Voldemort had possessed him, showing him painful images, like the murder of his parents. He had almost discovered Harry’s deepest secret: his love for the boy sitting next to him.. Harry had to use his limited skills of Occlumency to protect Ron. He knew that if Voldemort discovered his feelings for his best friend, Ron would certainly become a target. Harry’s mind showed him horrible images of Ron lying dead on the floor, while Voldemort’s wicked laughter tortured his ears. Harry could barely suppress his tears.

 

“You’re sure? I could bring you more food, if you like,” said Ron nervously.

 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” said Harry, while the agony was almost devouring him.

 

“Harry, you’re not alone in this,” said Ron suddenly, ignoring Harry’s answer. “I want to help you, mate. You know I’m not one for talking about feelings. Hermione’s more experienced in that. But I’ll be there for you, no matter what.”

 

Harry turned his head to Ron while wiping away his tears. He looked Ron in the eye, and before he could do or say anything, Ron pulled him into a hug.

 

All his emotions and frustrations flowed out through his eyes. Harry couldn’t remember ever having cried so hard in his life. Ron didn’t release him, until all his tears were shed.

 

“A little better now?” asked Ron a little embarrassed.

 

“I’m fine,” said Harry. “Ehm, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to sleep.”

 

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Ron. “I hope Hermione won’t bore me all evening with that S.P.E.W. crap.”

 

Ron closed the door behind him, and Harry felt empty again. He loved Ron more than anything, but he could never tell him. He finally fell asleep, while his love pains kept nibbling in his stomach.