shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-02-01 16:00:00 |
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Godric's Hollow - Chapter Sixteen : Occasions - H/R - PG-13
Title: Godric’s Hollow
Author:shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
This is my Big Damn Table, turned into a multi-chaptered novella.
One hundred stories inspired by Broke Back Mountain.
Ron looks back on his life with and without Harry.
Chapter Sixteen : Occasions
Birthday
So.
Teddy’s project was to afford a wedding, a flat. A wife.
No wonder she’d happily gone back to school.
It did make we wonder why no one had noticed what they were planning.
But I suppose they’d been in their own little world for so long, heads together, it didn’t occur to any of us to ask.
He didn’t have to make a big stand and pay for the wedding, of course. I suppose that was their last resort, if we disapproved.
But Harry was happy to give her the perfect wedding she wanted.
He actually took a month off work, and the five of us had a ball organising everything.
The date was set for early August, and, as everything was in place, Harry asked me if I’d go away with him for a few days for his birthday.
I’m ashamed to say I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been to the cottage.
But of course I said yes.
It was so strange to be there. The original owners had moved on long ago, and everything was different.
We had lunch, we went for a gentle walk, self consciously avoiding our old favourite outdoor places.
We had dinner in front of the Muggle television.
We talked about the wedding, about the kids, about work.
The World Cup was right after the wedding, and he promised he’d come to some of the matches with me.
It had been a long time since we’d watched a match together.
We talked about the games I’d watched Harry play.
The time he played for England.
We didn’t talk about us.
But that wasn’t unusual.
How often had we gone from the small talk straight to the sex.
Although I suppose that could have been part of our problem.
So, it got late.
We were sitting close together on the couch and Harry turned the television off.
He turned towards me, tucking one leg under him and I leant closer.
“Wait,” he said.
I blinked at him.
“Before we do anything, I want to tell you something,” he said quietly.
I nodded.
“I… I’ve been sort of seeing someone,” he said.
It shouldn’t have hurt so much. Was I that selfish? Did I want him to be alone?
“I don’t know if it’s serious or anything,” he continued, looking down at his hand in his lap, worrying the seam of his jeans with a thumb nail. “He’s a nurse at the hospice. And it’s not exclusive. Yet. So I can be with you. But I thought you should know. Before we do anything. Just in case.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d been going home to Hermione for all these years; I couldn’t object to him seeing someone.
A ridiculous part of me wished he’d been seeing a woman. Thought of this as something that could only happen between the two of us. I’d certainly never been attracted to another man.
For me it had only been Harry. Always Harry.
Christmas
So.
I still hadn’t said anything, and Harry gave a small sigh and went to turn away.
I reached after him and caught his arm.
“Wait, Harry,” I said. “You know it takes me a while to get my brain round something.”
He laughed nervously.
“It’s OK,” I said. “I… I’m glad you’re… you’ve built a life or yourself. I think you work too hard; I don’t like the idea of you just working and crashing at your flat. It’s good that you’re, um, socialising. And I have absolutely no right to object, or feel hurt.”
“But you do,” he pointed out.
“I do, and I’m stupid, and ignore me,” I said.
He smiled and captured my hand.
“So,” he said. “What d’you want to do?”
“Ravish you,” I said, simply.
His face lit up. His couldn’t-believe-his-luck smile.
The one that I had first seen our first Christmas at school, when Harry opened his presents.
Nearly forty years ago.
“Come here,” I said, tugging on his hand, and suddenly he was in my arms.
Our lips met, and he tasted of Harry and my heart sang.
“Oh, Harry,” I whispered between kisses. “I wish…”
“Shush,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. We’re OK.”
Thanksgiving
You should have heard Harry’s father of the bride speech.
I’m sure everyone else heard it as a tribute to his daughter and his new son. My son. Our son.
But everything he said about them applied to us.
And when he thanked me for taking him into my family it broke my heart.
Hermione sobbed.
I had to go into the house and bawl my eyes out.
It was pitiful.
He followed me into the house and wrapped his arms around me.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?” I sniffed.
“For everything,” he shrugged.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” I whispered into his hair.
Independence
Teddy had worked so hard to prove they could be independent, but Harry didn’t let them spend their money on a grotty flat, either.
He was almost never home, anyway, and Di had finally moved in with one of her many boyfriends, and Philip had moved in with friends, so he gave them the house as a wedding present.
Teddy tried to protest, but Harry overroad his complaints.
“Why should you live in a poky flat, when the house is empty?” he said. “I’m always at the flat in London anyway, and I don’t need a big family home anymore.”
Teddy frowned.
“Alex was born in this house,” Harry pointed out. “And if you don’t take it, well, I don’t need it and I’ll probably sell it and then she can’t come home anymore.”
Teddy had no answer to that, of course, and so they went off on honeymoon with a rather dazed look on their faces and Harry went inside to sort out what he’d take with him and what he didn’t need anymore.
New Year
I sat and watched him packing.
He kept taking peeks at me out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t understand,” I said finally.
“Understand what?” he asked, turning to face me.
“Are you leaving for good?”
“I’m moving,” he said.
“When will I see you?” I know I sounded pitiful.
“Oh, Ron, I’m barely here as it is,” he said gently. “We can still see each other. Hermione has already insisted I come to dinner.”
“I don’t want to see you for dinner,” I said. “I want to see you.”
“I know,” he said. “Look, this is the first time in nearly twenty years we have no one to see off at King’s Cross when the new year starts – but we can still meet at the pub, how’s that?”
“Is that it?”
He shrugged. “Maybe this is the right moment for a new start.”
“You’re leaving me,” I said flatly.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“Ron, if we’d been together, I could never have left you,” he said. “But I can’t get by on a few days a year anymore. I need… affection.”
“I can do that,” I said.
He shook his head.
“I just can’t do it anymore.”
Title: Godric’s Hollow
Author:
shocfixPairing: Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
This is my Big Damn Table, turned into a multi-chaptered novella.
One hundred stories inspired by Broke Back Mountain.
Ron looks back on his life with and without Harry.
Chapter Sixteen : Occasions
Birthday
So.
Teddy’s project was to afford a wedding, a flat. A wife.
No wonder she’d happily gone back to school.
It did make we wonder why no one had noticed what they were planning.
But I suppose they’d been in their own little world for so long, heads together, it didn’t occur to any of us to ask.
He didn’t have to make a big stand and pay for the wedding, of course. I suppose that was their last resort, if we disapproved.
But Harry was happy to give her the perfect wedding she wanted.
He actually took a month off work, and the five of us had a ball organising everything.
The date was set for early August, and, as everything was in place, Harry asked me if I’d go away with him for a few days for his birthday.
I’m ashamed to say I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been to the cottage.
But of course I said yes.
It was so strange to be there. The original owners had moved on long ago, and everything was different.
We had lunch, we went for a gentle walk, self consciously avoiding our old favourite outdoor places.
We had dinner in front of the Muggle television.
We talked about the wedding, about the kids, about work.
The World Cup was right after the wedding, and he promised he’d come to some of the matches with me.
It had been a long time since we’d watched a match together.
We talked about the games I’d watched Harry play.
The time he played for England.
We didn’t talk about us.
But that wasn’t unusual.
How often had we gone from the small talk straight to the sex.
Although I suppose that could have been part of our problem.
So, it got late.
We were sitting close together on the couch and Harry turned the television off.
He turned towards me, tucking one leg under him and I leant closer.
“Wait,” he said.
I blinked at him.
“Before we do anything, I want to tell you something,” he said quietly.
I nodded.
“I… I’ve been sort of seeing someone,” he said.
It shouldn’t have hurt so much. Was I that selfish? Did I want him to be alone?
“I don’t know if it’s serious or anything,” he continued, looking down at his hand in his lap, worrying the seam of his jeans with a thumb nail. “He’s a nurse at the hospice. And it’s not exclusive. Yet. So I can be with you. But I thought you should know. Before we do anything. Just in case.”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d been going home to Hermione for all these years; I couldn’t object to him seeing someone.
A ridiculous part of me wished he’d been seeing a woman. Thought of this as something that could only happen between the two of us. I’d certainly never been attracted to another man.
For me it had only been Harry. Always Harry.
Christmas
So.
I still hadn’t said anything, and Harry gave a small sigh and went to turn away.
I reached after him and caught his arm.
“Wait, Harry,” I said. “You know it takes me a while to get my brain round something.”
He laughed nervously.
“It’s OK,” I said. “I… I’m glad you’re… you’ve built a life or yourself. I think you work too hard; I don’t like the idea of you just working and crashing at your flat. It’s good that you’re, um, socialising. And I have absolutely no right to object, or feel hurt.”
“But you do,” he pointed out.
“I do, and I’m stupid, and ignore me,” I said.
He smiled and captured my hand.
“So,” he said. “What d’you want to do?”
“Ravish you,” I said, simply.
His face lit up. His couldn’t-believe-his-luck smile.
The one that I had first seen our first Christmas at school, when Harry opened his presents.
Nearly forty years ago.
“Come here,” I said, tugging on his hand, and suddenly he was in my arms.
Our lips met, and he tasted of Harry and my heart sang.
“Oh, Harry,” I whispered between kisses. “I wish…”
“Shush,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. We’re OK.”
Thanksgiving
You should have heard Harry’s father of the bride speech.
I’m sure everyone else heard it as a tribute to his daughter and his new son. My son. Our son.
But everything he said about them applied to us.
And when he thanked me for taking him into my family it broke my heart.
Hermione sobbed.
I had to go into the house and bawl my eyes out.
It was pitiful.
He followed me into the house and wrapped his arms around me.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?” I sniffed.
“For everything,” he shrugged.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” I whispered into his hair.
Independence
Teddy had worked so hard to prove they could be independent, but Harry didn’t let them spend their money on a grotty flat, either.
He was almost never home, anyway, and Di had finally moved in with one of her many boyfriends, and Philip had moved in with friends, so he gave them the house as a wedding present.
Teddy tried to protest, but Harry overroad his complaints.
“Why should you live in a poky flat, when the house is empty?” he said. “I’m always at the flat in London anyway, and I don’t need a big family home anymore.”
Teddy frowned.
“Alex was born in this house,” Harry pointed out. “And if you don’t take it, well, I don’t need it and I’ll probably sell it and then she can’t come home anymore.”
Teddy had no answer to that, of course, and so they went off on honeymoon with a rather dazed look on their faces and Harry went inside to sort out what he’d take with him and what he didn’t need anymore.
New Year
I sat and watched him packing.
He kept taking peeks at me out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t understand,” I said finally.
“Understand what?” he asked, turning to face me.
“Are you leaving for good?”
“I’m moving,” he said.
“When will I see you?” I know I sounded pitiful.
“Oh, Ron, I’m barely here as it is,” he said gently. “We can still see each other. Hermione has already insisted I come to dinner.”
“I don’t want to see you for dinner,” I said. “I want to see you.”
“I know,” he said. “Look, this is the first time in nearly twenty years we have no one to see off at King’s Cross when the new year starts – but we can still meet at the pub, how’s that?”
“Is that it?”
He shrugged. “Maybe this is the right moment for a new start.”
“You’re leaving me,” I said flatly.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“Ron, if we’d been together, I could never have left you,” he said. “But I can’t get by on a few days a year anymore. I need… affection.”
“I can do that,” I said.
He shook his head.
“I just can’t do it anymore.”