Hogwarts - 6

Harry walked over to his own bed and sat on the edge, glancing around uncomfortably.

"Why'd you leave? I thought we'd do some more flying," Harry said.

Ron shrugged. "I saw you and Ginny talking, and it looked pretty serious. I didn't want to interrupt, and I certainly didn't want to talk anymore about Percy, so I came inside."

"Ron…" Harry said, uncertain what to say. It wasn't as if he and Ron ever really discussed any of this emotional stuff with each other. That was usually Hermione's area.

"Don't, Harry," Ron said, snapping. "What? D'you want to say 'I told you so'? D'you want to remind me that you warned me about regretting not doing what was important when I had the chance?"

"No," Harry replied, stung.

"Then what? What can you possibly say that will change anything?" Ron shouted.

Breathing deeply to control his rising temper, Harry said, "Nothing. There's nothing I can say that will change anything, Ron. You're angry that you didn't get to have it out with Percy, but rowing with the rest of your brothers won't make it stop."

"Yeah, you're such an expert on this stuff, huh, Harry?" Ron snarled.

Harry flinched. "Unfortunately, I've had some experience," he said through clinched teeth.

Ron paled, deflating. "Shite, Harry. I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me – I keep snapping at Hermione, too. Merlin, I need a drink."

Harry pursed his lips and stared at Ron a moment before moving to his rucksack and digging through it. Pulling out his remaining bottle of Everlasting Firewhisky, he said, "That's one problem I can solve."

One corner of Ron's mouth quirked upwards. He grabbed the bottle and took a long swig, setting on the floor with his back resting against his bed. He folded his legs and handed the bottle to Harry, who also took a swig.

When he passed the bottle back to Ron, a brief flicker of concern crossed his friend's face. "Hermione is going to kill us. We haven't even had supper yet," he said. Despite his concern, he took a long draught of the Firewhisky, wincing slightly from the burn as it went down.

Harry shrugged, taking the bottle. "So? We are having supper – it's just a liquid supper," he replied, grinning.

"Yeah," Ron said, chuckling. "You tell Hermione that when she bursts in here and finds the two of us pissed."

Harry shook his head. "Nuh-uh. She's your girlfriend. You get to deal with it, while I quietly slink out of the room," he replied, laughing.

"Thanks a lot, you git," Ron said.

They sat on the floor trading the bottle back and forth for quite some time. If it had been a normal bottle, it would have been long empty by the time the winter sky had darkened, and the candles in the dormitory lit. Neither of them felt any pain, and the Firewhisky had long since stopped burning as they swallowed it. Both boys had uncurled their legs and sat sprawled on the floor – each kicking the other as they traded good-natured barbs.

It was only after they'd been drinking happily for some time that the conversation drifted back to Percy.

"I just wish I could have said 'Happy Christmas' while he was at Grimmauld Place, you know? What's so hard about saying Happy Christmas?" Ron asked, slurring his words.

For some reason, Harry found it very difficult to follow Ron's train of thought. He furrowed his brow, concentrating on enunciating his words. "Not hard at all. Happy. Christmas. Easy, see. Only two words."

"Exactly! Two words. So how come I couldn't say them?" Ron asked.