Note: …

- - -

“Pssst. Hermione?”

Harry peeked into Hermione's room and spied the telltale lump underneath the blanket. She was asleep. He tiptoed in and shut the door as softly as he could behind him. The dinky little inn they were staying at was no 5-star institution, and the walls were paper thin. If Ron, who was sleeping in the room they were supposed to share next door, ever heard him sneaking into Hermione's room so late at night, all bets were off.

Hermione's room had two small beds, just like Ron and his had. However, Harry had no intention of using that bed. Unless it was to push the two beds together. Harry considered doing that, but decided he'd rather snuggle closer against Hermione instead.

It wasn't that they didn't want to tell Ron, it was just that the horcrux hunt was very dependent on all three of them. If Ron knew, they were afraid he would either a) get angry and storm away, leaving them and probably getting himself hurt or b) feel neglected and abandoned and sulk away, leaving them and probably getting himself hurt…with “a” being most likely. It was a volatile situation, but it was best. As much as Harry and Hermione loved each other, Ron would always be a part of the equation. They loved him too, even if he was an arse sometimes.

“Psssst! Hermione!” He tiptoed a bit closer. Harry couldn't remember Hermione ever being this heavy of a sleeper.

Hiding their relationship did have its advantages. It led to some particularly daring and exciting trysts in caves, Muggle restaurant restrooms, and even the Tomb of Helga Hufflepuff. The latter of which seemed a bit wrong, even though they did have the courtesy to step out of the tomb and into the entrance corridor, but Hermione had explained that Hufflepuff was the kindest and gentlest of the four Founders. She was big on love, and probably wouldn't have minded. Harry, of course, needed no other encouragement.

“Pssst,” Harry hissed for what felt like the billionth time as he finally just climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around her. “It's me.”

Harry froze as Hermione shifted. Hermione's shoulders were curiously wider and harder tonight. Perhaps it was because they had spent the entire day out in the blazing sun searching for the horcrux that would probably not go down in the history books, when Hermione wrote them. Voldemort had decided to be extra obnoxious and hide Ravenclaw's “Magical Stone” fifty feet down under tons of sand at the beach where he had held his first ever Death Eater meeting.

Stones were always known to have certain magical functions, the most famous being the Philosopher's Stone, but upon closer inspection, Hermione deduced the Great Magical Stone of Ravenclaw to be a very old bit of medieval soap. Used. Sure enough, it was a horcrux. It could not be destroyed without a very powerful spell. Harry demonstrated this when he recruited Ron to help him impatiently smash the soap between two large, heavy rocks while Hermione was at the local library. They both sustained only minor scarring to the hands, but they agreed on a sacred brotherly oath never to tell Hermione.

Still, none of them could wait to tell Voldemort that they had destroyed his bar of used soap and that was why he was going to die.

“Mmm, Luna…” she breathed quietly.

He tried not to be turned on by the fact that Hermione dreamt about Luna, but he was an eighteen year old boy. Some things just could not be helped. Hermione sounded a bit congested, though, her voice thicker and deeper. With all the traveling that they had been doing, a little cold was to be expected.

“No, it's Harry.”

“Mmm…Harry?!” A decidedly masculine voice cried out in surprise. Harry nearly wet his pants.

“Ron!?”

“HARRY?!”

Harry reached over and grabbed the wand off the nightstand. “Lumos!”

Sure enough, he was practically draped over the half-naked body of Ron Weasley.

“Aaaaah!!”

“AAAAHH!”

“What the bleeding hell are you doing?!” Ron demanded, covering himself up with the covers as if he were hiding his breasts from Harry. Harry gagged at the mental image and shot off the bed, landing hard on the floor.

“What are you doing in Hermione's room!?

“What are you doing in my bed!?”

“What are you two yelling about?” They both swiveled around to find Hermione glaring at them, hands on her hips and massive quantities of tangled, bushy hair tied up into a large frizzy bun. Harry had to actively resist the urge to get up and snog her into the wall. It was always the natural look about her that made Harry want her so badly, unkempt hair, muddy feet, and all. It was odd and sometimes he wondered if he just had some kind weird fetish, but that thought was shot when Harry fell in love with everything else about her. Every little thing that she did was amazing. When she laughed, or read something, or looked pensive, or even glared at him with a murderous look in her eye, just like she was then.

He shook off Hermione's trance and climbed to his feet clumsily. “Why is Ron in your room?”

“We switched rooms while you were downstairs talking with that Muggle,” Ron told him. “Bloody hell, Harry, didn't you even go to our room first?”

“What'd you switch for?” Harry asked, sweating as he avoided Ron's question. Hermione, too, seemed to be fidgeting. Harry in fact did not even bother to go to his room. After the long day they'd just had, he'd fully intended to spend the entire night with Hermione and then sneak back to his room before dawn. But Harry and Hermione had agreed to hide their relationship from Ron on one condition: they could never lie. Half-truths and partial information hurt, but it was necessary unless Ron asked the right questions.

It looked like it was just about that time.

“There was a spider in yours,” Hermione explained slowly, as if trying to draw out the conversation so Ron never got to ask his next question. “Ron couldn't sleep, so I let him switch.”

“It wasn't because of the spider.” Ron's neck colored sheepishly. “I just…figured Harry and I should be in the room by the stairs, in case there was an attack, you know?”

“Oh, then I suppose I should thank you for protecting me, and allowing me to get rid of the spider myself - “

“Hang on, don't change the subject,” Ron interrupted. “Why is Harry trying to crawl into your bed in the middle of the night?”

Silence. Awkward glances back and forth. Harry hoped Ron would just be thick like he was about several other important things, but his jaw dropped.

“Oh my - oh, bloody hell, Harry molested me because he was trying to molest you?!”

“I didn't molest you!” Harry yelped. He'd barely touched him! And any contact was only because he was confused and sleepy.

“You're together?!”

“Ron, please, let us explain - “ Hermione pleaded.

“And you didn't tell me?! How could you not tell me?!” Ron fumed, bouncing up a little like he was throwing a tantrum and causing the century-old mattress to creak in agony. “Oh…oh Merlin, you two have been doing it, haven't you!?”

More silence.

“BLOODY HELL!” Ron burrowed his face into the mattress and groaned, hiding under his sheets. “Oh, Merlin, the images! No, no, nonono!”

“Ron, it's not just that,” Hermione walked over to the bed slowly and tried to tug away the blanket and bring him back. “We're in lov - “

“How could you not know she wasn't me?” Ron demanded suddenly, his head shooting up and nearly knocking Hermione out cold. “You groped me for a good ten minutes - “

“I did not grope you!” Harry cried. He looked at Hermione. “I didn't grope him, I swear!”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Didn't the lack of breasts throw you off?”

Ron gagged and looked about to go into convulsions.

Harry ran his fingers into his hair in frustration and pulled. “Look, I was tired, okay!? And Ron has really soft skin for a bloke!”

“I do not! My skin is dry and scaly!” Ron bellowed. “How could you not tell me you're together? Why didn't you - how come - oh, God, you feel Hermione up?! Bloody hell, you guys get naked!”

Harry couldn't quite follow what was going through his best friend's head then, just that whatever broken path of logic Ron was trying to follow seemed to be confusing him. One bit distracting him from another and so forth. There were definitely way too many things running through his mind, the poor guy. He wished he had discovered their relationship in a slightly nicer way then being…touched by accident.

“Well, we don't have to get completely naked sometimes,” Harry tried a joke. At Hermione's outraged expression, he knew it was a failed attempt.

“Harry!” Hermione smacked him in the shoulder. Ron looked thoroughly horrified at what he had said. Then he looked astonished, and finally his last expression was that of pure irritation.

“Harry, I - damn it,” Ron rubbed his fists into his eye sockets, as if that would make everything better and the mental image would go away. “Guess what, Hermione, your boyfriend over there tried to destroy the horcrux by crushing it between two rocks, and that's why our hands are messed up!” he exclaimed defiantly.

Harry gaped. Ron had just broken their brotherly oath. No self-respecting male ever broke the brotherly oath. It was unheard of, no matter what the circumstances. Harry cringed a bit as Hermione grew even angrier. It was always a good thing to have a healthy fear of Hermione's temper.

Whack! Sure enough, Hermione's hand connected with the back of his shoulder again. Harder, this time.

“Ow!”

“How could you do that? Are you insane?” Hermione demanded.

Harry glared at Ron, who looked somewhat triumphant. At that point, Harry decided Ron was toeing the line.

“Well…Ron ate three of the sandwiches for dinner last night! There wasn't any bear. Ron was the one who at all the food!”

Ron gasped, but Harry held his head high indignantly. A brotherly oath for a brotherly oath. It was only fair.

Hermione crossed back over and whacked Ron. “You mean you're the reason we've been starving!?”

“Owww, woman, that hurt!”

“It really does,” Harry commented feebly, rubbing his shoulder. Hermione turned back on him.

“Oh, don't you complain about anything! I told you the spell would take a while to prepare, but you just couldn't wait, could you? God, do either of you have any self control at all?!”

“Self control?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember Hufflepuff's tomb?”

As he suspected, Hermione did. She had gone violently crimson, as did Ron, but Harry was somewhat satisfied. It was Hermione who had gotten the sudden urge, and it was Harry who ushered them out into the exterior chamber so that they didn't desecrate the tomb of one of the most powerful witches in history.

“You…you guys…in Hufflepuff's tomb?! Oh, bugger, we're cursed!” Ron moaned, no doubt drawing on Bill's stories of cursed Egyptian tombs.

“We weren't in the tomb,” Hermione squeaked.

“Thanks to me,” Harry reminded her.

“Oh shut it,” Hermione growled. “At least I was able to perform.”

Harry gasped at the low blow and Ron whistled pityingly. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth in shock, clearly regretting what she had said, but Harry still felt the sting. The one time…

“Oh my gosh, Harry, no, I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry!”

“Oi, tough luck mate,” Ron said, looking slightly amused. His smug expression made Harry angry. He knew Ron was expected to take this badly, but he really wasn't helping anyone.

“It happens to all guys,” Harry muttered defensively. “Though Ron's being a virgin might - “

“You're a - ?” Hermione began to ask, but managed to shut her mouth just in time, a feat Harry had failed to do. It was common knowledge at Hogwarts that one did not date Lavender Brown and leave the relationship with his virginity intact, but Ron had told Harry in confidence that they hadn't done anything. Harry knew he had crossed the line even before it came out of his mouth. If words were a tangible object he could tug back and swallow, he would have done just that.

Ron flushed. “Screw you, Harry.”

“Listen, Ron, I didn't mean…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to make it better. Even Hermione was looking at him in shock. None of this was going the way it was supposed to.

“Get out. Both of you, just get the hell out.”

Harry didn't budge, even though Hermione had made a move for the door. When she saw that Harry was standing his ground, she stopped and stayed. Hermione looked at Harry and narrowed her eyes. She obviously thought Ron needed time to digest everything, and they would see him in the morning. Harry thought otherwise. Ron was his best friend, his first friend. If there was anyone in the world that knew him better, sometimes even better than Hermione, it was Ron. In the same way, Harry knew everything about Ron. He just had to think of something…

“Hermione is afraid of ice cream.”

Ron and Hermione stared at him. Several beats of confused silence ensued before Ron cracked a smile.

Hermione caught on. Ron had grown into a brave, loyal, kind, intelligent, trustworthy man. He was everything you could ever look for in a friend. But Ron was still Ron, and he was still easily amused, and very easily distracted.

“It's cold,” Hermione insisted by way of explanation. “Food shouldn't be that cold! I just don't see the appeal - “

“When I held out that ice cream to you last week, you jumped back at least three feet,” Harry grinned.

“I told you, I don't like it! I didn't want it to touch me!”

Ron was laughing now, and Harry knew he had mended the situation a bit. Hermione knew too, though she looked like she wished he hadn't done it at her expense. She had told him time and time again that it wasn't a fear, it was a dislike. Two completely separate things.

“And you make fun of me for disliking spiders!” Ron hooted.

“Well….well, Harry puts cushion lifts in his shoes to make him look taller!” Hermione revealed, to Harry's chagrin. He narrowed his eyes. If she wanted to play this game…

“Hermione brushes her teeth in the shower!”

Ron stared. “That's just weird, Hermione.”

“It's not weird, it's efficient,” Hermione grunted. “Water is water. Anyway, at least I don't pee in the shower.” She glared pointedly at Ron and Harry's jaw dropped.

“Bloody hell, Ron, we've used the same shower for six years!” Harry cried.

Ron hid partially underneath his blanket. “Well, showering is like washing the shower anyway…there's a drain in there, you know…”

“That's disgusting. How do you even know he pees in the shower,” Harry asked Hermione, his face twisted in disgust.

“Ginny told me.”

“Speaking of Ginny,” Ron said loudly, clearing his throat. “Hermione kissed Ginny on the mouth in fifth year!”

Hermione gasped and hid her face behind her hands. Harry was intrigued. Intrigued in a way that made him desperately want her to be wearing less clothing.

“Oh my God, Ron, Parvati and Lavender were just teasing me about how uptight they think I am. I just wanted to show them - “

“You kissed Ginny?” Harry was completely mystified.

“Oh, shut up. Ron wore Dean's underwear for a whole day before realizing it wasn't his!”

“Hermione can't jump backwards!”

“Ron cast Silencio on the Rice Krispies cereal I gave him last week because he was scared of the way they were crackling at him!”

“Hermione tried tetlling McLaggen she was a lesbian to get him off her back!”

“Harry thinks it's sexy to get my attention with `pssst' at night, but all it does is make me want to go to the loo!”

“What - what?! What are you bringing me back in for?” Harry turned on her.

“I'm so sorry, I'm just so confused!” Hermione moaned into her hands.

“Blimey, you're right. When Harry tried to wake me up he went `pssst' like fifty times. Actually, I think I still need to pee!”

“Oh yeah? Well, Fred cursed a smiley face onto Ron's arse and its still there!” Harry declared.

“Harry tried to piece his Nimbus 2000 together in third year and had to get the splinters removed from his bum after trying to use it!”

“Hermione's parents were told she was going to be a boy and up until the day she was born her name was Bartholomew.”

“Ron liked to wear Ginny's dresses when he was five!”

“Harry dropped his glasses in the toilet once and didn't bother washing them because he was late for a Quidditch game!”

“Hermione didn't learn how to read until she was nine, after taking a remedial reading class over the summer!”

“Ron has soft, silky girl skin!”

“I DO NOT!”

“Okay, you guys, STOP!” Hermione bellowed, interrupting Ron's hunt for some embarrassing secret of Harry's. They both looked at her sheepishly.

“Okay, look, some things have been said…” Hermione looked at each one of them carefully. “…that may or may not necessarily have to be true…if they just don't leave this room.”

The boys nodded vigorously.

“God, yes,” Harry agreed.

“Bartholomew who?” Ron said innocently.

Not for the first time, Harry was glad he had his stubborn, unreasonable friends with him. Despite the complete ridiculousness of the past half hour or so, they did in fact keep him sane. They kept him grounded as Harry, as opposed to just The Boy Who Lived and The Chosen One.

“Okay, I knew when we finally told our secret it would be rough, but I didn't quite expect this,” Harry admitted.

“Guess some things are just better as secrets, huh?” Ron smirked. “Though…I do wish you told me about you two…”

“Oh, Ron…” Hermione sat next to him on the bed and hugged him.

“It's okay, I'm not mad,” Ron assured her. “Actually, when the blinding shock wears off, I'm sure I'll be happy for you. It's just that, seeing as we now have enough dirt on each other to makes ourselves a bunch of little islands, hopefully you know you can trust me with stuff.”

“Mate, we know that,” Harry said. It was hard to think of Ron as a grown-up. To Harry, Ron would always be the tall, gangly, goofy kid he had grown up with. He never realized when any of them grew up, but it had happened, absurd secret-spewing sessions aside. It was stupid of them to think that Ron was on another level. It wasn't fair of them, not to give Ron his due credit. “We're really sorry.”

“Don't be. If there was one thing I learned tonight, aside from the fact that you two go at it like rabbits and I now must live with scars in my brain for the rest of my life, it's that obviously, none of us are perfect.” Ron grinned. “Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed and pretend none of this ever happened.

Hermione leaned over and gave Ron a kiss on the cheek before returning to the other room. She began to shut the door as she left.

“Hang on, Hermione, you left something.” Ron pointed at Harry, who was starting to climb into the other bed.

“But…” Harry looked back and forth between them, torn at what to do. Hermione always looked enticing to him, but her standing there at the doorway looking so unsure and worried made her even more insatiable. Harry needed her. But if his brain's bothersome processes were correct, Ron needed him too. He had just suffered a big surprise. Harry didn't want to just run off with his girlfriend and leave Ron alone. To some degree Ron must have already started feeling lonely, knowing that they had each other.

“Take him, Hermione,” Ron insisted. “Merlin knows, I don't want him. He might try to night-rape me again.”

They laughed, Harry jumping up from the bed and whacking Ron in the head with a pillow.

“Good night, mate.”

“Good night, you guys. And Harry, just remember. It happens to all guys sometimes.”

Harry lunged, but Hermione grabbed him and pulled him out of the room, leaving Ron alone to laugh himself to sleep. Except Ron knew he would never be alone, no matter what happened between those two.

Together or apart, he would always have his short, impulsive, performance-anxiety-suffering best mate…and the girl-kissing, ice cream-fearing, shower-toothbrushing Bartholomew.

- - -THE END- - -

Note: Ummm, I was too embarrassed to have this beta-ed. And of course I decided to post it anyway, which totally makes all the sense in the world. Anyway, I warned you! I was just so excited that I actually finished one of my bajillion unfinished fics that I impulsively just clicked that “upload” button :-\ Every author is allowed one “wtf?!” fic, right? Uhhh, or two. Three? …Four.

2^nd Note: If you cared about my fic The Talisman, it's on pause again. School and things, you know. It's harder to do chapters for that fic while I'm in school, not sure why. Crap like this is to be expected when midterms come round, though :-P Probably more coming when my projects are due and finals week. Sorry bahaha.