“Stupid?” Harry blinked at his friend, then very slowly closed his fingers over the small box, and retracted his hand. “Why is it stupid?”
“Because,” Ron said roughly. “Because you're supposed to give a girl an engagement ring when things are going well in the relationship, Harry, not when they're going badly.”
“It's not an —”
“It's manipulative,” said Ron, and then flushed to the roots of his red hair.
“Manipulative?” Harry echoed in disbelief. “Because I want to give Hermione something that I think she'd like, that's manipulative?”
“Tell me you're not trying to tie her to you,” said Ron. “Go on, say it. But I won't believe it.”
“She's my girlfriend,” said Harry. “We're already tied together. And frankly, I think you're being kind of an ass about this.”
“Am I?” Ron had begun tapping the point of his quill against his knee. As he spoke, he tapped it more quickly and with greater force. “When are you going to do it, Harry?” he asked.
Harry shook his head. “I was thinking Christmas Day,” he said. “You know.
When people usually give Christmas presents.”
“It's not just an ordinary Christmas present,” said Ron. “I think you should wait.”
“Oh, really.” Harry's voice was irritable. “Why's that?”
“Look, Harry — it's a ring. And no matter what, you give a girl a ring, she's going to think you want to marry her —”
“Well, maybe I do want to marry her,” said Harry, then checked at the astonished expression on Ron's face. “Well, not bloody now, I'm seventeen, it would be ridiculous. But that doesn't mean that I —”
“Marry her?” Ron echoed, and there was a strange tense note in his voice.
“You can't.”
“What do you mean I can't?”
“Hasn't she talked to you lately? Don't you listen to her? Your relationship is falling apart!”
Harry stared at Ron. His jaw was set, his shoulders rigid. “And I suppose you think you know more about my relationship with Hermione than I do?”
“Bloody anybody would,” said Ron angrily, “the amount you pay attention!”
“You know what I think?” Harry burst out furiously. “I think you're jealous.”
Ron went white. “What?”
“Jealous. And you're hacked off because I haven't been around much lately. And yeah, I'm sorry. But this isn't exactly the way to show me the error of my ways, you know. Because all this is making me realize is why I don't want to spend time with you in the first place,” Harry added furiously. “So maybe you might want to take a second and be a bit more understanding instead of acting like you know what Hermione wants better than I do!”
“You think you know everything?” Ron threw back at him, and there was an odd hitch in his voice. “How much time have you spent with her these past months? I bet you couldn't tell me what classes she's taking. You've been so wrapped up in your little world, and you don't let anyone in except that fucker Malfoy, and if you don't see the way he looks at her you're stupider than you look.”
Harry shook his head. His eyes were brilliant with anger. “Nice try. I know you hate Draco and quite frankly, I couldn't care less. I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, Ron. I am going to go upstairs now, and go to sleep, and on Christmas Day I'm going to give this ring to Hermione, and if you want to sit in the corner and glare at me, fine, but —”
“You're so stupid,” Ron said, and his voice came out ragged, on a half-tearful gasp. “You're so stupid —”
“Just shut up, Ron.”
“You think you could just ignore her and she'd sit there and wait for you to wake up and start paying attention again? You think she'd be willing to let you treat her like she didn't matter —”
“You mean Hermione? What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”
Ron sat bolt upright. “I'm talking about Hermione!” he yelled, so loudly that Harry flinched back. ”I'm in love with Hermione, and she's in love with me!”
A dead silence followed this announcement. Harry stared blankly at Ron; Ron stared equally blankly back. The expression on his face was one of stunned incomprehension, as if he could not believe the words that had just issued from his lips. “My God,” he whispered. “Did I just…”
“Say that?” Harry's eyes were icy. “Yes, you did. And it's not fucking funny. If you want to make jokes —”
“I'm not joking.” Ron's eyes were still dazed, but his voice was firm, and so was his set chin. He raised his face to Harry's. “I wouldn't have chosen this way for you to find out. But it had to be sometime.”
Harry shook his head, and his black hair flew around him like a cascade of shadow. “Right. Very amusing. You can really be a jerk sometimes.”
“I'm not joking,” Ron said again. He raised his eyes to Harry's. For a moment, the two gazes, blue and green, met and tangled. And finally, oddly, Ron smiled, a strangely luminous smile. “I wanted to tell you,” he whispered. “I thought about telling you. Every night I thought about it. I must have told you a thousand times, in different ways, in my head. And now…and now you know.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, and half-closed his eyes. “And now you know,” he repeated again.
