A/N: This is set in the fourth year at Hogwarts (which means there will be fourteen-year-olds kissing if that bothers you).
One Of Those Days
It was one of those days. One of those lazy summer days when lessons had ended, homework could wait, and you were content to just bask in the sun for hours upon end. Outside in the grounds of Hogwarts, there were students sprawled out on the ground everywhere. There were girls chatting and trying to get a tan in the sun, and boys running around and perhaps even dozing in the relaxing warmth of the afternoon.
Farther off from anyone else, beneath a large tree situated near the lake, sat two boys. One – a boy with messy, dark hair, a pair of glasses and a strange scar hidden beneath his fringe – was sat high above the other, in the tall branches of the tree with his legs dangling down beneath him. The second – a taller boy with almost flame red hair and a face full of light freckles – was leaning back against the trunk of the tree and revelling in the shade the branches supplied
Ron was almost at the point of dozing off into a light sleep when Harry finally spoke for the first time in almost ten minutes.
"So...how goes your quest to win the heart of the fair Lady Fleur?" Ron asked absently from his seat on the tall branch of the tree.
Ron looked up at him and, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun, attempted to look annoyed.
"Shut up, Harry." He said dismissively.
Harry grinned at the knowledge that his words were having the desired effect on his prey: he was embarrassed.
"All I'm saying," he continued with an innocent voice, "Is that if you want to truly sweep her off her feet then you should probably do something about your clumsiness. Your body's less co-ordinated than an elephant in high-heels."
Harry was not often in so light a mood that he could say this taunt in such high spirits that it was impossible to offend Ron, and when he was in such a mood the ginger boy's lanky figure was always his source of jokes. Just like when Ron was in such a mood he would comment on the fact that Harry was almost a head below him in height. It wasn't meant to insult; just to tease.
Still, Ron felt a blush creep across his cheeks but chose to ignore it in the hopes that it might get bored and go away.
"Shut up." He repeated with a little more force.
Harry shrugged, his twinkling green eyes betraying his otherwise incredulous expression. He looked down at Ron from his vantage point in the tree like a kestrel eyeing a particularly juicy-looking mouse. It wasn't often that Harry was the one to initiate the teasing (due to the fact that it was no secret between him and Ron that The Boy Who Lived was very, very fond of a certain Ravenclaw Cho Chang.
But now that Ron had suddenly developed a sex drive, it was concentrated solely on the French student Fleur Delacour who had come to Hogwarts for the Tri Wizard Tournament – and Harry wasn't going to let this sublime opportunity to taunt his friend go to waste.
"And you could stand to shrink a few inches in height too. Don't want to give the poor girl a neck ache every time she has to tip-toe up into the clouds to kiss you."
And then he swooped down for the kill.
"That is, if you know *how* to kiss."
Ron was frozen – not knowing which one of the emotions battling for primary place in his mind to pick. He didn't know whether to mutter, or to grumble, or even to yell. He settled for stuttering like an imbecile.
"S-shut up, H-Harry."
Harry abandoned all pretences of being innocent now and smirked playfully down at the flustering boy.
"Hm, that phrase is starting to sound considerably familiar now. How articulate you are today, Ron," he noted sarcastically, "Don't get so worked up. Being a bad kisser is nothing to be ashamed about. You can get lessons."
Ron glared up at the highly amused boy sat above him and clenched his fists tightly.
"I've never had any complaints before." He said through gritted teeth.
"No," Harry said as he slipped off of the branch and landed gracefully on the grass next to the sitting Ron, "You've never had any offers, either."
Ron couldn't think of a comeback for that – mostly because he couldn't deny the accusation – so he settled for his default reply.
"Shut up, Harry."
The black haired boy smiled at how his freckled friend squirmed when he embarrassed him. You'd think he would have built up some kind of immunity by now...but apparently not.
"Make me." He challenged, his eyes glinting with a slightly more intense gleam.
Ron was taken aback by this subtle yet apparent change in the mood of the banter, but to his credit, didn't show it. Instead, he resolved to meet Harry's challenge head-on.
"Oh," Harry scoffed, "And how would you do that now, eh?"
"I'd...I'd kiss *you*."
It was merely a joke. A weak attempt at humour on Ron's part. But instead it seemed, by the widening of their eyes, that both rivals were equally surprised by these words. Ron was in the process of giving himself a couple of mental slaps for bringing the subject back up. But that was nothing compared to what happened next.
"Go on then." Harry said, his pride overpowering his common sense.
"I...I will." Ron said, unable to think of anything better.
"Yeah right." Harry replied, on more comfortable ground now that he knew it had all been a blind bluff.
"I will." Ron said, more strongly now that his own pride was at stake.
"Yeah," Harry said dismissively as he sat down next to Ron,
Ron turned to him angrily.
"If you say I won't, then I will!"
"If you say so."
And then the whole universe shifted and fell apart. And then every unwritten rule in the un-manufactured law of reality was broken. And then Ron kissed Harry. It was a mere brushing of lips, nothing deeper. Partly because Ron didn't have a clue at where to go from there (Like, was there a method to sticking your tongue down someone else's throat?) but mostly because he was terrified of being pushed away.
The two teenagers stayed, their lips joined, for a good few moments before Ron finally pulled back with a rapidly reddening flush painted across his face. He then sat, facing forwards, his eyes unblinking. Harry did the same. A deafening silence ensued – even the birds who were previously singing happily up in the trees hushing their tweeting, and the breeze that was once rustling the leaves dying down.
Suddenly both boys were jolted back to the real world by a sharp cough from behind them.
"Hey, you two!" chorused the almost unbearably cheerful twins Fred and George.
Ron and Harry jumped to their feet guiltily to face Ron's brothers.
"H-how much did you see?" Ron asked in horror.
The twins raised their eyebrows.
"Uh...I saw you both sitting on the grass." Said George.
"I saw you both hugging your knees." Fred added.
"And I saw both of you sitting in silence." George finished.
"Which part of that are you ashamed of?" Fred asked with a grin.
Shaken, yet safe knowing that the two elder Weasleys had arrived too late to have seen the...incident, Ron and Harry managed to regain their composure in time to avoid arousing any more suspicion from Fred and George.
"Well, what brings you up here?" Harry asked, almost completely recovered.
Fred started as if just remembering his purpose.
"Oh! Hermione cornered us in the hallway. She wants you two to know that if you ‘don't come to the library right now then you won't be getting any help with your homework for the rest of the year', in her own words."
Harry and Ron exchanged shaky smiles and both got to their feet. The twins then lead the way down to the castle. As Fred and George joked and laughed together, Harry and Ron kept their eyes to the ground and their mouths tightly closed. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
After a while, when the boys were almost at the entrance to the main hall, Harry finally looked over to Ron and spoke. Ron waited, his heart in his throat, for what Harry was about to say...
"I was right. You really can't kiss."
"Shut up, Harry."
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