Inevitable
+ steal a kiss and call us friends.

by littlelesslostboys.

DISCLAIMER: I wish.
Harry Potter/Ron Weasley.
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The first time it happened they were eleven years old and it was an accident. Both of their stomachs rumbling in a fitful of nerves as they got on the train to Hogwarts for the very first time. Harry, worried he wouldn't be good enough. Ron, worried he wouldn't be able to live up to how good his brothers were. Filling their lonely carriage with conversation and sweets, they smiled.

Having just released a chocolate frog, by accident, through the slit of the window, they were both laughing like nothing bad could touch them ever again. Crouching on the floor as another slipped under the seats -- the train gave a sudden jerk and Ron's lips ended up against Harry's forehead.

From that moment on, they were inseparable. They were friends.

--

The second time it happened they were twelve and it didn't count. After weeks of harassment and anger and frustration, they found out the way into the chamber of secrets. Harry discovered he could speak parseltongue and Ron discovered he probably wasn't cut out for this. They spent a full two weeks moping, separately, and then another two moping together before they realised they were being stupid and vented their various problems through chess. It became a habit.

Harry found out what it was like to feel wanted, when he discovered Ginny sent him a Valentine's card. But with her being Ron's sister, even contemplating the future, it didn't seem right. They went off, alone, to face another obstacle and as Ron was caught behind the boulder wall, Harry was left to find out how far he'd come and how far he had left to go.

Wandering back, Tom Riddle (and Voldemort, for all they knew) had been destroyed, once again. When Ron, through the small hole he'd made in the rocks, saw Harry had rescued his sister, he just wanted to hug him so tight he couldn't breathe. He discovered what it was to be truly grateful.

Climbing through the wall first, Ginny smiled and threw her arms around Ron before letting go and waiting for Harry. When he climbed through, one leg at a time, he had a little trouble with the various injuries he'd picked up. Ron knelt to help him, just as Harry fell through the gap and right on top of him. His lips pressed against Ron's neck. But they were just glad everyone was safe. And it was all over.

From that moment on, they were comfortable. They were best friends.

--

The third time it happened they were thirteen and it was out of fear. Hermione had been too busy to bother with them, and so they sought out each other to try and figure out the way of the wizarding world. That girl was too smart for her own good, they said, they both agreed on it and it became an almost joke between them whenever anyone asked where she was. Library -- of course. They didn't realise -- especially after their fight -- that whilst the two of them were together, Hermione had nobody as was feeling the weight of being lonely. They felt guilty after Hagrid told them and so filled the space of her presence by too many jokes and words straight from textbooks. They missed her too.

Ron, after having his leg broken being pulled under a tree, forced Harry into a panic. And they both felt the pain of being torn apart. Hermione bore most of the brunt of it as Harry pushed her and pushed her until they could get to him. Neither of them said a word.

When Sirius turned his wand on Harry, Ron stood himself directly in front of him, quite willing to die from him. When Ron was distraught over the deceit of what he thought was his pet rat, Harry listened and even laughed at the right times, when he moaned about him being useless anyway. Ron was happy when Harry saw through it all and let him talk for hours about how he felt he'd never measure up. Ron wanted to protect him more than anything when Harry spoke of his family. Of the Dursley's.

Ron got taken to the hospital wing. Harry and Hermione had no time to check up on him. It wasn't the first time they'd had to leave him behind, but it hurt more, knowing this time he'd chose to. He and Hermione spent hours running in circles after themselves. Harry got all of his good memories sucked out of him by the dementors. All of them of Ron.

After getting Sirius off to somewhere safe where he could try his hand at living, they returned to the hospital wing and the first thing Harry did was rush over to check on Ron. He didn't say anything, neither of them did, but they hugged so tightly Hermione left the room. Ron's lips hit his cheeks twice then, but still they didn't say anything.

From that moment on, they didn't need words. They were a maybe.

--

The fourth time it happened they were fourteen and they couldn't explain it. They fought, for the first time in as many years, and they realised that being lonely wasn't being apart but being together and silently hating each other. Harry missed Ron. And Ron missed Harry. But they were both stubborn and Hermione refused to be a part of it. Harry found himself in the triwizard tournament and it wasn't only Ron who hated him anymore. He was struggling to hide from the constant exposure whilst coming to terms with the idea that he might well die. He didn't like to think of it much, but it was always there, the thought that usually lingered at the back of his mind, playing along his nerves. Ron was usually the one who stopped him thinking things like that. He was quite certain, then, that Ron wouldn't care if it did happen.

After the first task, after he passed the first task -- with one of the highest scores pinned to his name, at that -- him and Ron made up. They weren't quite back to how they used to be, but they were comfortable enough to talk for hours when the lights went out. Most nights after that they would play chess and bits of their old friendship would slip back into place as Ron tried to let Harry win once or twice whilst still retaining his competitive streak as he crushed half of Harry's pawns.

By the time the Yule Ball came around, they were back to the same Ron and Harry everyone knew. As inseparable as ever. Ron found, for the first time, what it was like to be jealous. Of both his friends. Hermione, upon recently discovering she was a girl and what that meant, he was more angry over the fact that she had, not only left him to go alone when she was supposed to be his friend, but had gone with Krum no less -- Harry's competition. Harry, he was jealous because it was Harry. And he only felt better once he was sitting next to him tearing apart Quidditch plays and talking about all of the stuff Hermione never approved of. Along with, quite forcibly, not dancing. Neither of them even noticed when their dates left

After the second task, Ron discovered there may be a route from which the jealousy had been derived. He was the thing Harry would miss most. Him. Ron Weasley, with the hand-me-down ropes and mis-proportioned frame. He kept quiet about it but, at night, locked inside his long, thick drapes, he would lie awake and try and get his head around all of the thoughts that were swimming there at once. Harry, he noticed too, was oddly quiet. But he knew better than to push him into talking about. He didn't think he could cope with another fight. He had only barely survived the first one.

Ron found Harry in the hospital wing after the tournament was over. He wasn't supposed to talk to him or ask any questions, he wasn't even supposed to stay for long but his family was there. Hermione was there. He wanted to know he was okay. He sat there for days, the rest of them filtering in and out. He left to shower, to change clothes, early on a morning when nobody would miss him. He told them all, when they turned up too, that he'd just arrived. Sneaking Harry's invisibility cloak a few times just because he couldn't sleep thinking Harry might need him.

On the third night, Harry awoke just as he was leaving. Ron was so surprised and so relieved he leapt to his feet and flung his arms around him before he could stop himself. He told Harry how worried he had been and Harry, then, in a whisper, told Ron everything that had happened. They gripped their hands tight together as both of their voices hitched. Ron hugged him against his chest, again, when they heard footsteps and as they faded back into the distance, Harry's lips connected with his own. This time neither of them pretended it was an accident.

From that moment on, they didn't need anything else. They had each other.

---

The fifth time it happened they stopped counting.