#rarry drabble

[shellxrls]

i love how barry is visibly much shorter than rafe yet you never feel it because he holds so much power beyond physicality over him.

[oxydiane]

‘Hello Mr Black, sir!’

Sirius raises an eyebrow, amused.

‘Hello, Ron, why the formalities?’

The child stood in front of him, back straight for the first time in his life and fists clenched at his sides. His cheeks were slightly red and he looked like he was about to burst.

‘I have to ask a very important question, sir,’

Sirius bites him tongue to prevent from asking him to drop that title. It was way too unfamiliar coming from the mouth of a kid he had been having over at his house for years.

‘And what may that important question be?’

‘I love Harry a lot,’ Ron says, that’s not a question.

‘Yeah, you do,’ he nods.

‘And we want to be together forever!’

Sirius nods again. ‘Yeah, may have heard my godson mention that once or twice,’

‘So I’m asking for your permission to marry him, sir!’

Silence.

Sirius blinks once, twice. His lips must tremble with the effort of not bursting into a full-body laugh.

‘Well, young man, you’re making quite the jump here, aren’t ya?’ He asks instead. ‘Skipping all the courting and just asking for his hand? That’s not very gentlemanly of you.’

Ron’s entire face goes crimson and Sirius can’t help but notice how his cheeks still aren’t as bright as his red hair.

‘I—I—‘ Ron stumbles upon his words and Sirius bites the inside of his cheeks now, his tongue starting to hurt. ‘I’m sorry, sir! I hadn’t—‘

‘Hey, calm down,’ Sirius says gently, putting a hand on Ron’s shoulder. ‘Why don’t you come inside? Maybe we can talk about this courtship better over a mug of hot chocolate.’

Ron’s eyes light up at the mention of the beverage.

‘Yes sir! Thank you!’

He rolls his eyes as he watches the child skip through the hallway and into their kitchen. He is definitely not going to let him live this down.

[lumosatnight]

my year in fic - 2022

I was tagged by @the-francakes (x), @schmem14 (x), @broomsticks (x), and @danpuff-ao3 (x) for a fic roundup/2022 review/stats something or other, so I'm combining them all here.

2022 was definitely a year of fests. Fests fests fests fests!!! I joined and modded so many fests that I'm taking a month long break in January. But I also had SO MUCH FUN. Fests are addictive and there's a reason for that.

Alright, here we go. Let's start with some stats.

—

Word Count: 151,378 (alas I did not make my goal of 200k but I'll take what I can get. That's still the length of a full length novel!)

Hits: 56,307

Number of Fics started and finished: 21 works (+ just as many double drabbles/microfics/minifics)

Number of WIPs started: um.... pass

Ships I wrote this year (not including background ships): um.... also pass. There's literally too many to list. I write so many ships it's hard to find a trend. But I guess I gotta answer.

Drarry (10), Wolfstar (4), Rarry (3), Parvender (3), Flintwood (3), Deamus (2), Linny (2), and Fred/George (2) eep

Favorite ship(s): Yo this is such a hard question. Idk EVERYTHING. Drarry, rare pairs, and femslash. That's my answer.

Least favorite ship(s): Fenrir ships. I just can't get into them, but also, I dare you to convince me.

AO3 Fic Writers/Artists/Creators/Readers who have inspired me and my writing this year: ohmygod sososososo many. I'd be so annoying if I tagged them all. Maybe I'll just pick a few

@broomsticks and @consistentsquash for their rec lists! AMAZING STELLAR PHENOMENAL. Jackie also leaves the absolute sweetest comments and Squash is the best hype person you will ever find. I strive to be more like Jackie and Squash.

@thistlecatfics, @bluesundaycake, @danpuff-ao3 for their wonderful characterization. The depth and grittiness to their fics floors me every time.

@the-francakes for her humorous writing and @vdoshu for their creativity. Seriously, you never know what Doshu is going to do next. Every one of Francake's fics makes me laugh.

@crazybutgood, @sugareey-makes-stuff, @anaxandria-writes, @digthewriter for their art. Every time I see their art, I just want to write and write and write because it's so inspiring. I also want to leave them a million and some kudos. Why won't AO3 let me live my best life 😭?

@schmem14, @articcat621, @paulamcg for their lovely comments and dedication to keep reading what I put out. I'm STILL surprised that people like my writing enough to keep coming back 😅

Everyone in the HP Saffics and Rare Pairs server who constantly bring up new ships and headcanons and I NEED TO WRITE THOSE RIGHT NOW. I love you all 💖

Now with stats out of the way, let's do a countdown of fics.

—

5️⃣ Top 5 works I'm most proud of from 2022 (not necessarily my most popular)

Your Cigarette Smell [Sirius/Narcissa, E, 9.7k] — My fic for @hprarepairfest 2021! Which might be cheating a bit, but technically the fest ended in Jan of this year, and I love this fic so much that I really wanted to count it. But what could be better than Blackcest hate sex for the ages?

What is this, fucking Jeopardy? [Drarry, E, 20.5k] — Written for @hd-cluefest this year and an absolute blast! Cursed Draco and Curse-breaker Harry were a dream to write. This was my most popular fic from 2022!

Rosmerta's Special Brew [Andromeda/Rosmerta (but mostly gen), T, 6.0k] — My fic for @hpqueerfest that is a testament to queer joy and queer love. I love this fic with all my heart 💖

Call me baby (I'll be on the way) [Neville/Blaise, E, 6.3k] — Written for @hp-soulmates which I also modded 🙈. So much MISCOMMUNICATION and oblivious boys in love. Also filled with rare pairs galore!

Death and Undeath [Fred/George, E, 3.1k] — Written for @hpcestfest where I got to dip my toes into the Dead Dove scene. This is a fav of mine because I got to combine magic and science and wove it into George's desperation as he tries to bring Fred back to life.

4️⃣ Top 4 current WIPs that I'm most excited to release in 2023

Oh baby, here we go again. I'm SUPER excited for my fic for @dronarryfest 2023. I can't go into details because it's anon, but I am SO EXCITED.

I've started a longer Cissamione fic that I hope I get the chance to work on next year. Will it ever be published? We'll see.

Time travel Tomarry! I've read a lot of Tomarry but never really written it, so I'm trying it out for the first time.

Might finally continue my Drarry Squid Games-inspired fic. Maybe. Possibly.

3️⃣ Top 3 biggest improvements in my writing over the past year

Brevity: I think I'm finally getting the hang of cutting down scenes so I'm not info-dumping too much on the reader.

Confidence: I've definitely become more confident in my writing. I still wouldn't say I'm the best, but confident enough that I enjoy reading what I write.

Angst: I think I can write a fairly good angsty ficlet now. Fluff and smut, I might need to work on a bit more.

2️⃣ Top 2 resolutions (ways I wish to improve my writing/blog) for the new year

FINISH A LONGER WORK. I would love to actually finish something over 50k words and publish it chapter by chapter.

Cut back on fests (lol, yeah right) and make more room for myself. Be more mindful of my fandom limits and when to step back and take a break.

1️⃣ Number 1 favorite line I've written this year!

What if that was not the end?  Flip back to the beginning. Reink the quill. Rewrite the page.  Would that be enough to forget? Would that be enough to remember?

From White, the colour of flowers, my Drarry Hanahaki fic [M, 3.2k]. Lots of angst, multiple endings, and (un)requited love. I used this quote as a transition between sections, and it's still one of my favorites.

—

Happy New Year! 💜💙💚💛🧡❤️

[cheesyficwriter]

I would love to read a Harry/Ron angsty friendship moment. Post battle would be great with the prompt “Don't you ever do that again!” 😊

Hiya, anon! Happy Monday 💜 thank you so much for the ask. Harry/Ron's friendship is one of my favorite parts about the HP universe. I hope you enjoy this missing moment!

We Live

When Ron Weasley was 11 years old, he met Harry Potter on the train to Hogwarts for the very first time. He didn’t know it then, but befriending one of the most sought after wizards of their time had proven to be no easy task. 

They tackled multiple dark wizards, heartbreak, classes, and life together. Ron remained loyal to Harry throughout it all, and stood beside him no matter what adventure came upon them year after year.  

He wouldn’t change it all for a damn thing.  

Which is why they both found themselves, on the night following the Battle of Hogwarts, on top of the Astronomy tower — or what little remained of it. There was debris piled around everywhere, the sky above them still dark and cloudy, visual evidence of the destruction and loss they experienced that day. 

Ron looked over to Harry, who was staring off into the distance — his eyelids were sagging, a clear sign of the exhaustion that was finally starting to set in. His face was covered in dirt, there was a huge gash in his lip, and his jet black hair was the messiest and longest Ron had seen in it a long time. 

Harry looked like a man who had sacrificed everything in order to keep the world moving, and he did. For that reason, Ron was angry. 

“Don’t you do that again,” Ron mumbled gruffly, and the force of his words caused Harry to turn his head, eyes wide. 

“What do you mean?” 

Ron leaned forward, hoping his steely gaze was enough to convince Harry of the intent behind his words. “Don’t you ever try to sacrifice yourself like some bloody martyr again, you hear me? For a minute, I thought…” 

Ron swallowed roughly. A surge of emotion that he kept inside started bubbling to the surface, and he had to shake his head to dissolve the tears invading his eyes. “I thought I lost two brothers in one day.”

Something in Harry’s eyes shifted, and Ron felt almost guilty for passively bringing up Fred when Harry was in such a state. 

A tense moment of silence fell between them before Harry croaked out, “Ron, I’m really—”

“I know.”

And he did know. They all knew there was a possibility that everyone wouldn’t make it out of the battle alive. But there was a stark difference between anticipating something bad happening, rather than actually living with it. 

Right now, they were living with it, and neither of them were quite sure how to move on from here. 

“Harry?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah?” Harry pivoted his head to regard him curiously. 

“I’m really, really glad you’re alive.”

Ron watched as Harry smiled for the first time that day. “I’m really, really glad you’re alive, too.”

Harry squinted his eyes back out towards the sky, which was starting to clear. “You know, we’ve been best mates since the beginning of this whole thing.”

Ron nodded, finishing Harry’s train of thought, “We’ll be best mates till the end — and today was not the end.”

For a minute, they were just Ron and Harry, innocent and hopeful for the future, just like they were at the young age of 11. 

Harry chuckled. “Alright, no need to get sappy on me.”

Ron gave him a playful shove, one that was quite pitiful due to the lack of energy he had left in him. 

“So, you and Hermione…” Harry began after a beat. 

Ron rolled his eyes, an instant blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Don’t start.”

“Wasn’t gonna....” Harry held up his hands, a teasing grin splitting onto his face. 

Ron snorted. “Yeah, you were.” He allowed himself to think about his curly-haired girlfriend — girlfriend. Can he call her that now? He supposed they had a few things to sort out as well. 

“She is my sister, you know,” Harry continued, a slight warning evident in his tone. 

“And Ginny is my sister.”

Harry kicked a small pebble on the floor, and they both watched as it went flying out of the tower. “If she’ll have me back.”

“I only needed to get one look at her to know that she’s still completely barmy over you — not sure I get why, it’s not like you just defeated the darkest wizard of our time or anything…”

“We defeated,” Harry corrected. 

They met each other’s gaze one more time, a wave of understanding passing between them. Ever since they were 11 years old, they were a we. Two best friends who stood beside each other through everything. 

“So, what do we do now?”

“We live.”

Thanks for reading! Check out my other brotp fics:

A True Partnership - Ron gets himself injured on an Auror mission in an attempt to save Harry, and his best friend has a few choice words for him.

[phlox238]

red

i wrote something like this on Ao3 a while ago and it kinda sucked, so i wanted to rewrite it lol. there's major character death so if you don't like that don't read !

The color red used to bring me so much joy.

It was the token color of the Gryffindors, the color I fell asleep and awoke to every day throughout my years at Hogwarts.

So many memories. So much pain.

Then, years later, it was you.

Your hair, your freckles, your stupid flushed cheeks. I never thought I'd grow tired of the color. It was my favorite.

The way I'd run my fingers through your hair; when we'd get so close I could almost count each and every freckle on your body.

That's what it meant to me.

But now I can't stand it.

It's too much. Too many memories, too much pain. The color is everywhere. It's overwhelming.

When you left me, I rid myself of everything red that I owned. Clothing, kitchen tools, even my favorite sweater.

I often wonder if you're still watching over me, one way or another. I suppose I'll never know.

Because you're gone, and I'm still here. That will never be okay.

[bjornthorsson20]

Give Us a Break!

Had this Rarry drabble unfinished for 2 months now, and finally, the inspiration hit to finish it yesterday. Hope y'all enjoy! ^^

Harry entered the kitchen to find Ron already leaning on the counter, munching on some toast. Even now, in his disheveled morning state, Harry thought he looked positively stunning, especially with the sun rays reflecting off his flaming red hair, making it shine even brighter.

Ron looked his way, grinning as soon as their eyes met, and made a gesture for Harry to come closer. Harry had to stop himself from biting his lip at how sexy just that little wag of his finger was. He walked up to Ron, keeping a good distance away from him, but Ron wasn't having it, as he tugged on Harry's sleeve to pull him in until their faces were mere inches apart. Harry involuntarily bunched Ron's shirt with his fist, his breathing already ragged due to their proximity.

As soon as Ron dipped his head, they heard footsteps coming in, alarming them both, and before Harry could jolt away quickly enough, Ron burped on his face, laughing afterward.

"What the fuck, Ron?! Fucking hell!" Harry bellowed, frantically waving his hand in front of his face.

"I told you not to get too close, Potter. Your mistake," Ron chuckled, but with a subtle wink his way, Harry understood why he did it.

"Er, am I interrupting something?" Hermione asked by the doorway, with an amused half-smile and one eyebrow raised.

“Not at all, no. Harry was just talking big for someone who was clearly unprepared to handle the Weasleys’ dirty tricks,” Ron laughed, having way too much fun watching Harry blush profusely from the embarrassment of almost getting caught by their best friend.

“Okay,” Hermione enunciated, barely holding in a chuckle as she grabbed a piece of toast, taking a bite of it. “I’ll be outside reading in the shade if you boys need me or wish to keep me company later.” As they nodded, she left the kitchen, leaving them alone once more.

“That was close,” Harry breathed a sigh of relief, messing his hair up with a shaky hand, the blush still present on his face.

“But not close enough,” Ron said in the deep voice he knew always made Harry’s knees weak, bringing him closer again. Harry’s hand landed flat on Ron’s chest and he could feel his heartbeat speed up, his own breath hitching as he took in the deep-blue desire in the ginger’s eyes. Their lips moved at the same time…

“Good morning! Nice to see you both already up!” bellowed the Weasley patriarch as he came in.

“Ron, you really are a messy eater,” Harry quickly said, swiping away nonexistent crumbs from Ron’s shirt, hoping Mr. Weasley would buy it, despite the nervous squeak in his voice.

“Mate, you’ve known me for how many years now? It’s not news at this point that I’m a pig when it comes to food. Oh hi, dad,” Ron greeted his dad nonchalantly, and Harry wondered how he managed to stay that calm in this kind of situation.

“Sorry, were you two in the middle of something?”

“Oh, no, Harry was just practicing his crumb swiping technique on me. Apparently, it’s a muggle thing boys our age do,” Ron smoothly lied, as Harry was trying very hard not to laugh, sure that Mr. Weasley would never buy such a-

“Oh! Fascinating! Remind me to pull Harry aside later to inquire more on that. I’ll be heading off to work now. Take care, you two!” And with that, he was off.

Harry blew out a huge breath, crying from laughter as he gasped out syllable for syllable, “I can’t believe he bought that!” Ron soon joined him on it, both of them clutching their stomachs from the hilarity of it all.

Finally, they both sighed, spent from their bout of mirth, wearing identical silly smiles and stepping closer to one another. Ron caressed Harry’s cheek lovingly, his trademarked lopsided grin showing up. “I guess we should just wait for tonight. You can hold on until then, right?” He chuckled as Harry nodded.

“What can wait for tonight, our dear Ickle Ronniekins?” The twins chorused in unison, popping out from seemingly nowhere, startling them both.

“Well, uh, Harry likes me to read this muggle fairytale to him before bed, helps him sleep better, but lately he has been asking me to read it to him during the day, and I just wanted us to come back to it being a bedtime story. Makes it more special.” By the end of this convoluted lie, the twins were already reduced to tears on the kitchen floor, laughing even harder than Harry and Ron before. By the time they managed to get up again, each one leaning on Ron’s shoulders for support, they were laughing right at a very red Harry’s face, trying to form coherent sentences, but being overpowered by the laughter. They eventually calmed down enough to taunt Harry with questions like “Do you need your special blanket to sleep well too?” or “What thumb do you sleep sucking on?”, before thanking Ron for the gold mine of jokes and promptly disapparating.

The silence hung between them, Ron doing his best to not laugh at the terrible attempt at an angry stare Harry was giving him. Eventually, with a twitch of his lips giving him away, he muttered, “You’re the fucking worst.”

Ron did laugh then, dipping his head with their noses almost touching, “I am. But you love me for it,” he said, before finally giving Harry a proper quick kiss.

As Ron broke the kiss, Harry was left with a smile, and, with his eyes still closed, let out a content sigh.

“I do.”

[4ortherecord]

"Dont look at me like that man. It's not happening. I'm not getting involved rafe. "

"No, you are getting involved barry. You know why? Because you'll do anything for dick, especially mine."

"Now where did you here that from, huh?"

"You're a sleep talker, fucked you better than anyone ever has before, Isn't that right barry-boo?"

"Fuck off."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Now let's get a move on, got places to be."

[triggerlil]

Infinite Possibility 

AUgust Day 3 - Soulmates AU (Ron/Harry)

---

Harry traced the golden curls that wandered down Ron’s arm, intricate vines that unfurled into purple roses.

“Do they match?” Ron whispered, nerves evident in his trembling voice, the tips of his ears bright red.

All Harry could do was nod, picturing the vines that circled around his ribcage, roses blooming across his chest. Ron touched Harry’s neck nervously, where the hint of his soulmark peeked out from under his collar, hand then trailing downwards.

“But you’re my best friend,” Ron breathed.

With a spike of courage, Harry took Ron’s hand. This was his soulmate. “All the best lovers are.”

---

Check out my series on AO3 to eventually read all thirty-one.

[oxydiane]

It was silly, really.

It all started as a silly fight, with them arguing over what to listen on the wireless and Harry joking about Ron only wanting to listen to the Bulgaria-Spain game because of Viktor Krum.

It ended with Ron putting on a coat and storming out of their apartment.

It was so silly, then why was Harry sitting on the floor, knees to his chest and heart beating erratically?

Harry’s arms tighten around his legs, that was the first time Ron had left him, since the war.

He isn’t breathing from his nose, quick and short inhales and exhales exit his lips in a way that leaves him unsatisfied, unable to properly fill or empty his lungs. When had breathing become so difficult?

His throat is closing up and he frantically tries to think back of what Sirius had told him— slow, deep breaths. Name five things you can see.

But the only thing he can see is Ron’s face, hollow and pale as he leaves him and Hermione in that tent for good.

Four things he can touch, but the only thing he can touch is the rough fabric of his jeans against his sweaty hands as he clasps it in a futile attempt at grounding himself.

Three things he can hear, but the only thing he can hear is Ron’s dry voice ‘I get it. You choose him.’

Two things he can smell, but the only thing he can smell is forest and grass and pines.

One thing he can taste, and the only thing he can taste is bitter regret. He bites his tongue as if that could make him take back those words said so long ago. Not too long ago.

He tries breathing through his nose but it’s no help, his shoulders are shaking and— Sirius, he needs to call Sirius, he needs Sirius—

‘Harry?!’ A loud thud puts a halt to his erratic train of thoughts and, suddenly, Ron is next to him. ‘What happened?’

‘You— you left,’ Harry chokes and Ron’s face drains of colour. ‘Again.’

‘Oh, I— Oh Merlin,’ he stumbles on his words, clearly unsure of what to say. Ron had never been good at keeping silent, even when speechless. ‘I’m sorry.’

He takes Harry’s hand in his and places the other on his nape.

‘Please, breathe, I’m here, I’m not going away.’

‘You just did! You just left!’

‘I—‘

‘We were fighting! And you up and left me here! How am I— how could I— I didn’t know if you’d come back—‘

‘I’ll always come back to you,’ Ron interrupts him, his voice wavering. ‘I’m sorry, I am a prat and I wanted to come back the moment I walked out, but I thought you’d still be mad and so I… I made a quick stop to that bakery you like, yeah? I bought some treacle tart, to make you forgive me.’

‘You— treacle tart?’

‘Yes,’ He nods his head towards the entrance, where Harry thinks the thud had come from. ‘If you take long, deep breaths for me we can go sit down and you can have some, alright?’

Harry nods.

They stay on the floor for a while, Harry trying to focus on the grip of Ron’s hand in his and the fingers drawing circles against his nape until his breathing evens out. His heart is still beating erratically.

‘Okay?’

He takes one last shuddering breath and hides his face in the crook of Ron’s neck. ‘Never. Do. That. Again.’

‘I won’t, promise.’

‘Promise?’

‘I could make an Unbreakable Vow, if you’d like—‘

‘You’re such a git.’

They vowed not to fight anymore, since they survived the Great War.

[itsoperatunistic]

Harry drops his hand. Voldemort falls over with an eerily human “thud.” The protection around them breaks and suddenly there’s a swarm of people. Celebrating. Yelling. Despite the fact that so many people had died. They won.

But Harry didn’t care. He searched through the crowd for a mop of red hair. When he spotted it, he ran. Neville and Luna moved aside. Those that weren’t so close to him tried grabbing onto him but he pulled away.

He arrived in front of Ron, who looked as shocked as he was. He grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. After a second, Ron wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and receprocated.

Yes, they’d won the war. No, nothing was going to be the same. And maybe that was okay.

Based on this

[cheesyficwriter]

I loved your last Rarry brotp fic! Can you please write one about Ron getting himself hurt during an Auror mission because he wanted to safe Harry? And Harry getting mad at him for saving him and getting himself in danger instead? I hope you understand what I mean 🤪 Thank you!

Hi there! Thanks so much for the request. I absolutely loved writing that drabble, and was overwhelmed by the pleasant response to it! Hope you enjoy this follow-up 😊💜

We Live - Rarry brotp drabble #1

CW: Talk of violence, injury, mild language

A True Partnership

In some ways, Harry believed that he and Ron had trained to become Aurors since they were 11 years old. Together, they were held accountable for any decisions made under extreme duress year after year at Hogwarts and beyond — quite frankly, they both, along with Hermione, should have been killed several times over by now.

For many years, Harry had an instinctual fight-or-flight response to the dire circumstances that presented themselves. He knew that every move he made affected his future, and the future of those around him in the wizarding world that he tried desperately to protect. 

Fast forward to the fall of 1998 when Harry and Ron underwent basic training together. During that time, they learned advanced tactics they would utilize in order to suppress any enemies, and were taught magical jurisprudence, ensuring that they apprehended criminals on legally valid grounds. For two men who consistently broke school rule after school rule at Hogwarts, this particular aspect of training was harped upon more than others.  

The Auror Academy was very stringent, and not for the faint of heart — Aurors needed a certain level of mental alertness and physical strength to engage in conflict. They had to have a willingness to act in high-stake situations. Split-second decisions would be made, with no certifiable way in those moments to determine whether or not those decisions would be the right ones. Training is meant to prepare Aurors for crises that may arise, but real missions out in the field often present the unexpected — what many don’t see coming. 

That’s what partners were for. A true partnership was built upon the following principles: trust, commitment, and shared meaning. 

Trust: Ensure that your partner unequivocally has your back in any situation, from a Dementor attack to preventing further mutiny, and will be there to cover up your blind spots. 

There was no one in the world that Harry trusted more than Ron Weasley, so his best mate was the obvious choice to be his partner out in the field. It took Harry a long time after the defeat of Voldemort for him to grasp that he no longer needed to be so guarded. In the event that Harry ever let down his defenses, he had full confidence that Ron would be there ready to assist. 

So, it shouldn’t have surprised Harry that there would come a time when he wouldn’t be quick enough, or stealthy enough, and Ron would be there to respond. 

It all happened so fast. One minute they were joking about pranking each other with puking pastilles, and the next moment they were surrounded by Death Eaters.  

“Harry, watch out!” 

A split-second decision. 

That single decision made by Ron to warn Harry of the danger distracted the ginger-haired man from his own, and a flash of red light shot straight through his abdomen. Harry watched in horror as Ron’s injured body crumpled to the ground. 

“No!” Harry shouted, and the fight to stay alive was a blur from there. All he knew was that he had to survive the battle — he had to survive and get his best friend, his partner, to safety. 

Commitment: The act of sharing a mutual appreciation. Both partners should be on board to protect each other for the long haul. 

Several agonizing hours later, Harry found himself pacing the floors of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s. 

A Healer finally came out to give an update on Ron. Although pretty bruised up, and drowsy from the pain potion, he was okay and conscious. 

Beside him, Harry heard Hermione let out a strangled cry of relief. 

They allowed two visitors in at a time, so Harry and Hermione rushed down the busy corridor and practically threw themselves through the door to get to Ron. 

He was sitting up in his bed, a large, white bandage wrapped around his stomach, and his leg was propped up by a levitating sling. Ron's face, although initially contorted in pain, visibly brightened once he saw both of them. 

Hermione wasted no time running into Ron's arms, who responded by giving her a weak pat on the back that was no doubt meant to be comforting. "Hi, love."

Hermione sniffled as she kissed his cheek and pulled away, stepping back to allow Harry a moment to greet his best friend. 

When Ron's eyes shifted towards Harry expectantly, he laughed, "I dodged a bludger there, didn't I?" His face fell as he spotted the furious expression on Harry's face. 

"You," Harry glared at Ron, pointing a menacing finger in his direction. "I need to have a chat with you." 

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry didn't give him the chance. 

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left armpit were you thinking out there?"

"You could have gotten yourself killed!" Hermione piggy-backed off Harry's interrogation, a flurry of words streaming out through her mouth. "I mean, really Ron, out of all of the noble things you had to do, you think that—"

"Oi, knock it off, Hermione!" With a frustrated growl, Ron snatched his wand from the side table and whooshed closed the drapes around his bed, hiding Hermione from view. He then muttered a silencing charm for added effect.  

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Do you even realize what you’ve just done?” He didn’t want to be there to witness the aftermath of Ron’s decision to shut out Hermione. 

"I've already got you yelling at me, I don't need my girlfriend screaming in my ear, too, thank you very much,” Ron grumbled, letting his head fall back onto his pillow with a heavy sigh. 

Harry crossed his arms. "Well you wouldn't need us to chatter on as such if you hadn't very nearly kicked the bucket."

"Well, o'course not," Ron snapped. "I just saved your life, and all, but I'm the one who was in the wrong."

"I wouldn't have needed saving if you'd had just followed protocol and attacked those gits right away instead of worrying about me." 

"One of those fuckers had a wand aimed at the back of your head, what was I supposed to do?" Ron fought back. 

It was then that Harry realized Ron saw what he couldn't. His blind spot. A wave of guilt washed over him, and Harry knew he had no right to argue further.  

Ron looked down at his lap, his voice quiet. "When are you going to get it through your head that you can't always do it all by yourself, mate?"

The impact of Ron's words made Harry take a step back. The harsh silence that followed indicated to Ron that he was free to continue,

“We are a team. Partners. I know you’re so bloody proud, Potter, but you can’t expect to make the right decision every time. I am here to back you up. Always.”

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, overwhelmed by the love he felt for his best friend, his partner in crime, his brother. 

Shared meaning: An understanding or appreciation for your partner, and what values they stand for. 

Harry and Ron had managed their fair share of conflict over the years, finding the ability to compromise, solve problems, and take on the world together. They turned towards each other on a daily basis, whether it's to share a laugh over the strangest topics or provide emotional support. 

Their relationship went beyond a simple partnership. They were family. A unit. 

Harry choked out a laugh, "Okay, then. But it's my turn to be the hero next time, you hear?" 

A wide grin split across Ron's face. "Not if I beat you to it."

The drapes whooshed open again, revealing a very put out Hermione. "You two aren't honestly fighting over who gets to risk their life next, are you?" 

Harry and Ron share sheepish smiles, and a mutual understanding passes through them. 

Friendship is forever, and they will never stop finding ways to prove that. 

[acnelli]

#13 & #14 for rarry and #16 and #17 for romione. Please please 🥺

Hey anon! Thanks for the ask 🥰 Since I'm not the fastest of writers, could you please choose one prompt for now and when that is done, you send me the next one?

Right now, I'm still working on the Drabble for the Romione Discord Popcorn. After I posted that, I will write #13 Rarry for this ask if you don't leave another ask with a different prompt/pairing (please let me know then if you were the one leaving this ask ;))

Thank you 💛

Prompt List

[all-drarry-to-me]

Ron x Harry kiss

I don’t ship Harry and Ron, but I’m actually really happy with how this came out? I went with the cliché “eighth yeardrinking games” trope. I hope you like it, anon!

It hadalways been Harry.

Ever sincethe Hogwarts Express, ever since they were eleven.

Ron didn’tknow what to do about it; he didn’t know how to tell his best friend that hewas in love with him – that he had been in love with him for years.

Theneighth year came around, and Ron was given his chance.

It was aFriday night party with the other eighth years in their shared common room.Seamus brought the Firewhisky, Pansy brought the Veritaserum.

“Ron,truth or dare?”

Ronshrugged. “Dare, I suppose.” He could feel the whisky weighing down his tongue,through the Veritaserum made him speak.

Hermionegave him a shrewd look, and he began to panic slightly.

Shewouldn’t.

“I dareyou to kiss Harry.”

Apparently,she would.

Ron felthis eyes widen and his head whipped around on its own accord to find Harry. Helook surprised, but not revolted, which Ron supposed was a step in the rightdirection.

He inchedhimself forward, the Veritaserum making him move even though he wasn’t sure hewanted to. With each movement, Harry’s breathing increased slightly.

It was asmall circle, and it wasn’t long before Ron was right in front of Harry.

In a fitof Gryffindor courage, Ron leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s. Tohis surprise, it was only a second before Harry groaned and opened his mouth,inviting Ron to deepen the kiss.

After amoment of shock, Ron did, sliding his tongue into Harry’s mouth. His hand slidup into Harry’s black curls; they were as soft as Ron had always hoped.

The momentwas broken when Hermione started laughing.

“You twoare such idiots – you’ve been pining after each other for years!”

Ron smiledat Harry and his kiss-swollen lips. It sounded like they had some time to makeup for.

[hazyxthoughts]

When I'm Older

Some time, 2nd year:

McGonagall: You shall write on a piece of parchment what you wish to be when you're older.

Hermione: Does being a muggle doctor count?

McGonagall: Whatever you desire, Ms. Granger. Scribble it down.

Draco: *shoots his hand up the air enthisiastically* Can I be Potter's husband?

McGonagall:

Harry: My wot?

Draco:

Draco: Your husband. Merlin, Potter, no need to hint how much you want to hear me say it again.

[headcanonsandmore]

You have anything Rarry related for me? Sorry for bothering, lol

It’s not a bother at all! Actually, I’m currently editing the next chapter of my ‘Ronarry Headcanons’ series, so here’s a sneak preview. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~

Harry Potter was asleep, his glasses askew against the window he had been leaning against.

He had been staring out the window, waiting for Dumbledore to turn up. However, in the summer heat, he had dozed off.

A couple of houses over, someone’s lawnmower got caught on a rock, and the resulting noise promptly woke Harry up.

Wiping the drool from his face, he checked the time. He still had a few minutes until Dumbledore said he’d be there. Harry had packed all his things together, ready for the off.

As often happened these days, Harry’s mind wandered to what Ron might be doing. Harry was due to stay at The Burrow that summer, after Dumbledore had collected him. With a bit of luck, Harry should be seeing his redheaded best mate within a few hours.  

That last thought gave Harry a funny feeling in his stomach that he had long since stopped ignoring.

Yes, as if his life wasn’t complicated enough as it was, Harry had fallen for his best friend. The redheaded, funny, loyal boy who had been there for Harry ever since the first day at Hogwarts.

Needless to say, things had gotten rather confused in Harry’s head. On the one hand, he loved being around Ron, but -on the other hand- every moment around Ron gave him a strange sense of sadness. Because he doubted Ron would ever see him in the same way.

After all, Ron probably fancied Hermione. This has been evident since second year, but it had become noticeably obvious in the past couple of years. It was actually surprising that Hermione and Ron hadn’t gotten together yet, considering how obvious Hermione’s feelings for Ron were.

‘Ah, how lovely to see you again, Petunia…’

Dumbledore’s voice carried up the stairs. Harry leapt out of his room, and scrambled down the stairs.

‘I trust Harry informed you of my visit?’

Petunia Dursley glared up the stairs at Harry.

‘I take it that Harry did not inform you,’ Dumbledore continued, his beard twitching with suppressed mirth. ‘But no matter; let us assume you have invited me warmly into your home.’

Dumbledore breezed past Petunia and Vernon into the sitting room. Harry let out a groan, and followed.

This was going to be fun.

~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed that preview, sis! Thanks for the request!

[oxydiane]

Harry is eight and spending the time he isn’t locked up in his cupboard, or doing house chores, or running away from Dudley and his gang, at the nearby park. He sits on the swing and idly watches the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.

His name is Malcom, his hair is light brown and his eyes are the prettiest blue Harry’s ever seen.

But— but boys aren’t supposed to be pretty. Boys aren’t supposed to think other boys are pretty, so he makes himself smaller in his worn out jumper and never approaches him again.

Harry is eleven when his life turns upside down and a gangly freckled kid sits next to him on the Hogwarts Express. He looks into his blue eyes and marvels at the bright red of his hair. He wants to reach out and clean the bit of dirt off his nose, but that would be getting too close to another boy, and he couldn’t afford that, could he?

Not when he could imagine tracing all the freckles scattered across his cheeks.

Harry is fourteen when Cedric Diggory falls from the sky and offers him help getting up after using his first Portkey. His hand is big and as calloused as he’d expect a Quidditch player’s to be. He doesn’t like dwelling on the thought of how nice he’d found it.

He asks Cho Chang to the Yule Ball and she rejects him because Cedric Diggory had been quicker. He ends up spending the night on a chair intently looking at the way Cedric’s hand curls around Cho’s waist. He was jealous of him, right?

He tells Sirius about the Yule Ball and he raises an eyebrow at the way Harry describes Cedric’s robes and styled hair but can barely remember the colour of Cho’s dress.

Harry is fifteen when Cho Chang finally agrees to go on a date with him. It happens after they kiss and Harry is eager, he should be, right? The kiss had felt wet and not particularly pleasant and his chest felt a lot warmer as he watched the way Ron laughed when he described it than it had felt when his lips had collided with Cho’s.

The date doesn’t go well, maybe Harry just doesn’t get women.

Sirius says it’s ridiculous, but he doesn’t miss the odd look he and Remus give each other.

Harry is sixteen when he dreams of red hair and freckled skin and in order to escape it he decides to stay up at night and stare at Draco Malfoy’s dot on the Marauder’s Map.

It doesn’t do him good.

He decides the bright red infesting his dreams must be Ginny’s, because he doesn’t know any other red-haired girl. Even though she wears it long and when he dreams it’s short and spiky. And the freckles on her cheeks are not as numerous as the ones he marvels at after falling asleep.

He decides it has to be Ginny, and the thought of it can occupy his mind long enough to make him forget the weird pang and slight sick in his stomach each time he catches Ron snogging Lavender.

When Ginny runs up to him after winning the Quidditch up, he kisses her, because that’s what he’d been dreaming about, right? Hands tangled in red hair and freckled cheeks centimetres from his face, but it feels all wrong.

Ron nods at him and it all feels wrong.

Sirius is not here anymore for Harry to consult, so instead he takes Ginny outside their common room and, on the Hogwarts grounds, opens his heart to her.

She understands.

Harry is seventeen when he has to die and he still hasn’t made sense of the feelings in his chest or why, no matter how much he tried, girls felt so wrong.

It’s not at the forefront of his mind, it’s not even close because the only thing he can think about is the warm bodies laying lifeless in the Great Hall.

But, as he approaches his death, he does spare a thought for the uneasiness he had felt when Hermione kissed Ron, and the discomfort every kiss he’d given before had provided him. He hadn’t lived in full, not even close.

A flash of green light approaches and he finds it silly, how his last thought is of red hair and freckles.

Harry is eighteen when he attends his first Weasley family dinner after the war. The grief is heavy and Fred’s chair is empty but Percy is back home and it does bring at least a shard of comfort to Mrs Weasley. He isn’t alone, Oliver Wood hangs from his arm.

He is eighteen and Percy Weasley introduces Oliver Wood as his boyfriend.

Harry blinks at them and something in his head just clicks.

Harry is twenty when he finally musters the courage to walk into a Gay Bar. He had to Confund the door keeper because he didn’t own an ID, the Dursleys had never bothered giving it to him, given he even had one.

It’s a Muggle place and he feels like the odd one out, terribly dressed down and completely clueless.

He ends up ordering a beer and sitting by the bar.

It’s not until his third visit that a stranger approaches him. He has red hair but his pupils are a soft hazel and his skin isn’t freckled at all. Harry thinks that if he shuts his eyes close, maybe, he could pretend.

His name is Lucas, his lips taste vaguely like strawberries and the kiss doesn’t make Harry want to turn his insides inside out. He smiles and the rush of adrenaline in his veins as Lucas nibs on his bottom lip feels both terrifying and terribly right.

Harry is twenty-three when the cat gets out of the bag.

It’s not because he wanted it, really, but sharing a flat with his best mates could be inconvenient, at times.

He flushed and urges his date to get dressed as he tries to avoid Ron and Hermione’s shocked looks. Their hands are clasped together and Harry has learnt to live with the uncomfortable twist of his stomach by now.

They come off it quickly, though. Ron laughs and pats Harry on the back, says everything is much more clear now.

Harry is twenty-five when he makes his best-man speech at Ron and Hermione’s wedding.

He chokes on his words both because he was never that good at public speaking and because each time he looked at the way Ron’s arm curled around Hermione’s shoulder his throat went a bit drier.

He drinks his glass of champagne in one go and relishes in the burn before fetching Gabriel, his date for the night.

Gabriel stood out like a sour note next to his exes: his hair were a dusty blonde. Harry had thought there would be way too many redheads at the wedding anyways.

Harry is thirty-one when Ron jokes he will never settle down if he keeps on changing men at the same rate he changes his pants, but Harry doesn’t care.

Ron looks thoroughly annoyed and Hermione coughs, worried and almost resigned eyes looking up at her husband.

Harry is thirty-three when Ron shows up at his place with a suitcase and bashfully tells him Hermione wants to file for a divorce.

He just nods and lets Ron in.

Harry is thirty-five when Ron brings back a bottle of expensive Firewhisky and decides they should celebrate the Cannons’ new victory streak on their own.

He hadn’t heard of the Cannons winning anything, recently, but he shrugs it off because it’s not really his thing anyways, Ron would know.

He is thirty-five and Ron, red-haired, freckled and now face flushed sits way too close for comport and traces his lips with a pinky.

He stands up abruptly and loudly declares it’s time for bed. Ron looks quite annoyed, but it will pass.

It must have been his imagination.

Harry is thirty-seven when his best mate breaks down crying in front of him and confesses his feelings through agonising sobs.

He keeps apologising and a tug at his hand breaks Harry out of his stupor. He was sure it must have been a dream, but Ron was real and crying and trembling.

He leans down wordlessly and, finally— sparks.

He is thirty-seven and this is the first time he’s ever felt so alive.

Harry is forty-two when Hagrid walks him down the aisle.

It’s clumsy and messy because they’re both trying not to cry, Harry being much better at it than the half-giant.

He catches a glimpse of Hermione, beaming at him from the front with a knowing smile.

He is forty-two and he is in front of Ron, in white robes. The voices around them nothing but white noise and then Ron leans down and all he can see is— red. Red hair and freckles.