a/n: hi, dusk. i wrote this in an unedited rush because of how done i am with having so many wips on my laptop.

Dusk wanted a fic with Hermione being a wizard, so here it is with an additional Girl-Who-Lived.

The title comes from a letter between Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens.

Disclaimer: Ha, ha. No.

Title: a mass of fools and knaves

Word Count: 2K

Summary: Being the only boys in their makeshift trio, it was natural that Ron and Hector were drawn to each other. [Gender AU – M/M, Happy Birthday to Dusk!]

first year

It was after the train and the escaped troll when Hector finally managed to get some alone time with Ron.

"Do you really want to be my friend?" he asked. He stood ramrod straight next to Ron's four-poster bed. Primary School has taught Hector to expect hearing how strange he was, that he took up too much space and was cold and friendless and—why was he spiraling? No one at his old school was here at Hogwarts. So far, he had made a strange sort of friendship with the boys in his dorm and the Girl-Who-Lived. He shouldn't be spiraling.

He was absolutely terrified.

Ron blinked at him, bewildered. "You lied to McGonagall and Snape for us. In my book, that makes us friends for life."

"Oh." Hector sat down at the edge of the bed. "I'm not used to having friends. How pathetic is that?" He wrung his hands together, unsure of what to say or even do next. "Do we shake on it?"

second year

"Lockhart's brave," Hector said after the lesson was over.

"I've been brave," muttered Ron. "I'll like to see him up against a murderous chess game. Or spew slugs," he added pointedly, stopping to glare at Malfoy in the corridor.

Halley scoffed between them. "He's terrible!"

But Hector kept talking about how wonderful and heroic Lockhart was, and all Ron could feel was a strange twist in his stomach.

…

The potion smoked in the toilet seat. The three of them crowded around it, watching it with an ominous air. Carefully, he ladled them in the tumblers as Halley struggled to remember which hair belonged to who.

"Millicent for me, Crabbe for you, Goyle for Hector…"She looked again at the dark strands in her hands. "Or is this one Crabbe's?"

"They look the same either way," Ron assured her.

"If something goes wrong…" But Hector mind was already working ahead. He thought of the detailed passages in the book about cases gone wrong. People sprouting third eyes and gills and unable to fully regain their actual bodies back. He thought of Ron and Halley turning into piles of mud and bones, and it was all going to be his fault.

"I trust you," Ron promised, and he emptied the tumbler in his mouth without hesitation.

Despite the taste of overcooked cabbage and burnt hair, warmth blossomed in Hector's chest until the fur sprouted over his skin.

third year

Hector had expected to enjoy his holiday in Paris. There was so much fascinating history embedded in the cobbled streets, the magical art tucked away at the museums and the joy of being reunited with his parents. An adventure without someone trying to kill Halley or needing him and Ron to break a number of school rules.

Just not this:

"I can be just friends with a girl," he told his parents, trying not to sound cold as they waited in line for another exhibit, this time a Muggle one as his parents had stressed him to see the more normal parts of the city.

"We're worried, sweetheart," said Mum. "You've hardly shown an interest."

"So many of your letters are about Ron," Dad added.

He fought the urge to laugh, but it crawled up his throat and he wanted to look away from his parents. "I hardly see how any of this is a….any kind of problem." He turned away from them, his back straight and hands fisted by his sides. "I hope the exhibit has that special on Nicholas Flamel."

…

"What the hell?" Ron demanded from the top of the stairs. He tucked his wand in his waistband and stomped down the steps. "There is a murderer on the loose and you're doing homework?" His thoughts cycled from what if something had happened to Hector? What if Black already had Halley in his clutches? to what if Ron went back to sleep and let Hector deal with the consequences?

Hector was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Common Room and surrounded by homework.

"I thought you weren't talking to me anymore," Hector said, his voice snide. He purposely avoided Ron's gaze. Something gold glittered between his fingers, but Ron was still feeling the worry of not seeing Hector in bed with Azkaban guards running around to think about how strange his friend was being nowadays.

"Your safety is more important!" Ron jabbed an angry hand at the portal door, half-expecting a swarm of Dementors to arrive at any moment. "Come on. Get to bed before you give me more white hair."

…

"I see you two are talking again," Halley observed. "Excellent. Now we can go find out where Black is hiding."

"You worry us sometimes," said Ron.

…

fourth year

"Don't you dare touch him." Ron brandished his wand and a shout rose in Hector's throat. Outside the woods, he could make out the terrified screams and flashes of light in the night. This was a nightmare unfolding around them.

Malfoy laughed. "Or what, weasel, you'll fight for your boyfriend—"

Without thinking, Hector punched him in the face. This was nothing like the slap he had delivered a year ago. Malfoy's noise made a meaty sound and blood gushed down his face. He dropped his wand and started shrieking. Hector felt like making more bad decisions but watching Malfoy run off felt good enough for now.

Stunned, Halley and Ron stared at Hector

"We can't use magic outside of school," he reminded them.

…

This wasn't like sharing a dorm. Ron's room was smaller, more full of his personality with his orange walls and Chudley paraphernalia everywhere. His bed was tucked against a wall, the window overlooking where the garden was. The ceiling sloped to show a crooked trap door leading to the attic where the ghoul apparently resided.

And there was a cot next to Ron's bed. Neat. Orderly. A stark contrast ton Ron's.

Ron rambled about how things had to be rearranged with all of his brothers being home and they had to give Halley a space for herself because she was the only girl, and how his mum was scandalized when Ron suggested the three of them could share his room. As Hector dressed for bed, he felt he understood less and less of Ms. Weasley's logic.

"What does she think could even happen?" Hector asked.

Ron threw his arms up in the air. "That's what I said!"

…

They sat in the orchard. Hector was trying to convince Ron to finish the last of their homework as Halley and Gid zipped in the air on their brooms.

"You'll be thankful once you're done," Hector said, trying to sound stern. But the air was bright with sunshine, the scent of apple blossoms and the rare sound of Halley laughing care-free.

Ron laid down on the ground, an arm folded behind his head. The posture caused his shirt to rid up, revealing a strip of freckled skin. It was funny how Hector never realized how tall Ron had gotten, that now so many of his clothes were tight and often showed a flash of ankle or wrist.

Fumbling suddenly for his quill, he spilled an entire inkwell in the grass.

…

"The Prophet thinks I'm dating both of you," Halley announced with a grim face during breakfast.

Ron choked on a breakfast potato.

Hector pounded him on the back.

fifth year

Oh...Hector saw the cover of the book. It was an illustration of two half-dressed men standing close to each other, one fair and the other dark. He flipped through the pages and wondered more about the closed-off section in the bookstore near his neighborhood. Maybe I should go back…

Cursory reading was important, he told himself. He was allowed to read something other than textbooks. Pushing his guilt aside, he opened to the first page and tried not to think about how one of the men on the cover had red hair.

…

"You don't need to assist me," Hector said as they walked down the hallway.

"With Malfoy and his followers being so confident lately," a dark look crossed Ron's face, "I'm not letting you do this alone."

"How gallant of you," muttered Hector, but secretly felt pleased with the attention. "Someone should make you my official knight in shining armor."

…

The Common Room had started to empty more with the winter holidays coming closer. Ron brought Hector's luggage down, rambling about what his own plans were as his arms strained with muscle.

"And don't forget your homework!" Hector added, feeling ridiculous in his wooly hat. "We have OWLs starting soon and—oh, shut up, Ron!"

Ron shook his head, laughing. "Sure, we have You-Know-Who lurking and an evil professor, but you're still worried about our grades."

Hector caught Ron's gaze and thought about those books he kept in the bottom of his trunk. Any idea of continuing the conversation faltered and he desperately wanted to say something else. Ron stood close to him in his maroon jumper and a wide smile. Hector shouldn't be feeling this happy with exams near and Halley in trouble, but all it took was one smile from Ron…

"It's only skiing," Hector said.

"It could be, you know, dangerous." Ron punched Hector in the shoulder that was very lad-like. "Have a nice holiday."

…

"You're doing fine as their Keeper," Hector said in an attempt to cheer him up

They walked back to the castle, Ron sulking by his side before he stopped in place to stare at the empty Quidditch Pitch.

Hector threw an arm around Ron's shoulders and forced him to move.

…

"Look at my scars!" Ron's sleeves fell to his elbows as he showed them off to everyone in the room. His eyes were glassy and the smile he wore was better suited when being near Veelas.

Side-effects, Madame Pomfrey mouthed to Hector. She gestured to the potions she had Ron take earlier that morning.

"Yes, Ron. I see them," Hector said.

Ron gripped him by the wrists, his touch strong and hot as pressed his forehead against Hector's. He could smell spearmint toothpaste and clean laundry mingling with foul potions. "You almost died."

sixth year

Hector shouldn't be this attracted to the sight of Ron half-dressed in his Quidditch kit. He should be used to the scent of old socks and wet leather that took up their room, the piles of dirty laundry that always grew after practice, not peaking over the top of his book to catch a glimpse of Ron's shoulder or his chest. Not thinking about the single water droplet moving down his throat. Certainly not how animated Ron was as he complained and there was something ridiculously desirable about his mouth in the low light of the dorm.

"Drills! I swear if You-Know-Who doesn't succeed in killing Halley, I will!" Ron tossed his keeper gloves aside and threw his arms up. "See how bruised I am because of her?"

Hector nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

...

Ron could hardly think as class ended and Halley was talking about the notes someone had left in her textbook. He could still smell the Love Potion. Clean laundry and roasted chicken and ink… Hector was arguing with her, an ink stain on his fingers and voice stern. His collar was askew and eyes bright as he rambled on about how it wasn't fair.

"Ron, Ron!"

Something in Ron's heart stopped. "Uh, yeah?"

Hector sighed. Strands of his hair escaped from his neat hairstyle, the fumes from the potions had regressed them to their usual frizzy curls. Ron wanted to run his fingers through them. "Tell her using the book is wrong."

"I don't have to listen to either of you," said Halley.

…

Ron woke from another dream. He stared at the ceiling of his bed, guiltily wondering what Hector was dreaming about.

…

Cora McLaggen had slunk off somewhere early on, muttering about better prospects. Music floated in the air and partygoers dined on expensive food with the good cheer of the holidays starting soon. But all Hector could feel was the argument he had with Ron earlier that week. There was a cyclone of emotions inside of him, and he had no clue where to start.

"Congratulations," he said half-heartedly at seeing Halley and Gid arrive together. Halley was dressed in something green and glittering, her hair mused and just as guilty as the lipstick smear on Gid's mouth. This, Hector decided, was the least surprising event of the year.

"At least be a little more enthusiastic," muttered Gid.

Halley frowned. "I don't know what you two are even arguing about this time."

Hector shrugged. He took a sip of Gillywater. Something fundamental had changed about his relationship with Ron, leaving them fraught and circling around each other. Ron, what's happening to us? he thought. He recalled the countless chess games and arguments, wanting to race back time and find the cause for their new problems.

"I'm sorry," he tried to sound more heartfelt, but the words came out dry. "I hope you two have many Quidditch-obsessed children together."

…

"Don't be daft," Fred said. "You can like both." He looked around Hog's Head, a realization dawning on his face. "Is that why I'm actually here?"

"Zonko's could still have a bounty for your head," Ron muttered over the rim of his drink. He wasn't ready to admit he needed advice from any of his brothers. But Bill was busy planning a wedding, Percy was a prat, Charlie was too far away, he would rather die than ask Gid, so that left the twins. Even then he had to lure one of them out just in case the entire conversation went sideways.

Fred waved the bartender over for another drink. "I'm almost proud about how stubborn you are."

…

"Are we still friends?"

Halley was off being heroic with literal luck coursing through her veins, leaving Hector and Ron alone to deal with the fallout.

They sat on the edge of Ron's bed. Maybe unintentionally, they were mimicking an earlier posture from when they were in their first year. Ron was crumpling the edges of an old Quidditch magazine. Hector was hardly looking at him since asking the question.

Ron leaned forward, seeing the light brown of Hector's eyes, those wayward frizzy curls, his clever mouth catching his gaze. He remembered the hundreds of conversations between them, the arguing and bickering and laughing. It felt almost impossible how all those emotions stemmed from one person in Ron's life.

"We should shake on it," Ron said, unable to recognize his own voice. His mouth felt dry and all he could think was how close they were sitting together.

He really wanted to kiss Hector.

after

Ron stepped outside of the shadows, pale and shivering in the cold.

"Ron," said Hector. They stared at each other, the tension rising like an oncoming storm, their argument that had followed Ron back to the Forest of Dean, the fear of not finding another Horcrux, and the prophecy tightening around Halley's neck like a noose. There was so much weight on their shoulders and so little time and — "You came back."

"I'm fine," offered Halley. "It's not like I almost drowned."

Ron's eyes were the same glacier blue as the winter sky. His long nose red from the cold. Chapped lips spread into a wide smile as Hector threw himself at him. "You—arse—"

And Ron cupped his face between his hands and kissed Hector senseless.