Fling Wide the Whirlwind, the last chapter, minus a forthcoming epilogue

[thrihyrne]

Wow. So, here's the end, minus an epilogue that will be writen and posted in the next few days. For all who have been enjoying and enthusiastic about this story, thank you. I'd never posted a WIP, and hope that this final chapter doesn't disappoint. I was rather sad when I realized it's nearly over. I'll miss writing about these two in this universe!

For those on the flist not into this story, pass on by. I'll write about RL stuff in not too long, though I don't feel I have all that much to report these days. Mostly looking forward to some very fun visitors in the next couple of weeks, and in the meantime, I'm dealing with the usual of "what do I do with my life?" and "when will this divorce be over?" and "isn't Lumos going to be cool?" and "boy howdy, I'm going out dancing with a library friend tonight."



Ron sensed the maelstrom of kinetic activity going on outside of the flat as soon as he left the comfortable sepulcher where Harry was still fast asleep. Due to Harry's lingering celebrity status, they'd taken no shortage of precautions to ward their home and fireplace. Consequently they'd avoided having any uninvited visitors via the floo network or Apparition. As Ron walked toward the front door to get their copy of the Prophet, he felt the presence of dozens of beings outside, though he didn't believe any were family or friends. Cautiously he readied his wand and opened the door.

There was a wall of owls and other postal birds, hooting and filling the air with the whirring sound of flapping wings. Aristotle, Hermione's tawny owl, and Mercury from the Burrow flew insistently toward him, each landing on a shoulder. Ron leaned down to snatch up his copy of the day's news before bidding a hasty retreat back into the flat, both owls still on his shoulders.

"What's happened?" he asked into the peace and quiet of the entrance hall as both owls began pecking at him. Ron untied Mercury's scroll and then Aristotle's, ignoring their discontented nips as they waited fruitlessly for a treat. Shoving the parchments under his arm, he unrolled the newspaper and suddenly the reason for the avian ruckus outside the door became blatantly apparent.

HARRY POTTER – VAMPIRE!! the headline blared in pulsing, scarlet letters. A picture of him sinking his fangs into the neck of a drunken Muggle Londoner played again and again, Harry's expression one of bliss as he slowly drank. Ron watched Harry's throat as he swallowed repeatedly in the photograph. He knew it was accurate and not manipulated; he'd been standing right there. How in Hades had a photographer caught that moment? He and Harry had been especially aware of any wizarding energies the night before. This was so very, very wrong. Ron skimmed the article and saw a caption explaining the new Blackbeetle device that took pictures in the dark using inverse film with no flash. After it ran out of film, it retracted its 'legs' and rolled away, its hard shell protecting it until it was summoned using a process similar to a reverse portkey.

"She's fucking unbelievable! I'm going to tear into her fucking throat and slash it to shreds so she never talks again," Ron raged, realising it could only have been Rita Skeeter or one of her hired hands who had put the secretive device on him while they were at the New Year's party. He was so angry his hands began to shake. The article demanded that Harry call a press conference as soon as possible. It also said disparaging things about Ron, insinuating that he'd been the one to Change Harry, and posited negative attributes to Harry in regards to his sexual preferences. The article had this conclusion:

"While the Greensweep Reform Act of 2005 made same-gender bindings legal, it is still commonly agreed that such couplings are assumed to be rare and are not necessarily condoned by the general public. That this has happened makes such relationships appear all the more unnatural, though Mr. Potter has made vehement statements to the contrary in the past.

Ron Weasley was never under any suspicion as to his own unfortunate forced vampirism that occurred this past October, but given his and Harry's close relationship, it can be inferred that he made it seem appealing enough that Harry demanded he be made into a Dark Creature. There is, of course, a possibility that his conversion happened by accident; until Harry comes forth to explain why and how he has become a vampire, we are left with conjecture only. What is definitive from these photographs is that he is no longer human, and like his partner Ron Weasley, he must be accorded his new status and documented at the Vampire Registry."

Ron stared at the newspaper, his anger mounting. He heard an odd noise as he got more and more incensed and glared at the wall where two paintings shook.

"Ron! Shite, calm down; your magic's about to make that art shred itself. Oh, hi," Harry said as the two owls flew to him.

"Rita Skeeter should be flayed, her eyes gouged out and her tongue forcefully ripped out of her mouth," Ron fumed, shoving the newspaper at Harry. "One of her photographers put some secret camera on me and got photos of you feeding last night."

Harry eyed the front page, making an annoyed grunt when Mercury nipped at his head. "So she did. Well, I guess it's time for a press conference. What a circus."

Ron stared at him in disbelief. "That's it? You're not furious? They totally invaded our privacy without us knowing! You're pictured on three-quarters of the fucking front page sucking on some Muggle bloke's neck!"

Harry shrugged, folding the paper in half. "I don't care. I'll let them know that you didn't Change me but who did is my business. I'll make a formal apology to the Green Knights, announce that I renewed my handfasting vows to you days ago and I've never been ashamed of who I am, and as far as I'm concerned, the British wizarding world can fuck off."

At Harry's blunt, dispassionate response, the ire fueling Ron's indignations seeped away, leaving him feeling deflated and adrift.

"We don't have any steak or anything around anymore, do we?" Harry asked, glancing at one owl and then the other.

Ron shook his head, then nodded, at last saying in an exasperated voice, "I don't know. The bloody birds can wait."

"What did Hermione and whomever from your family have to say?"

"Bollocks. Hadn't even read their scrolls." Ron reached under his left arm to retrieve the two rolls of parchment. Hermione's note demanded explanations, expressed terrible apprehension and that she wanted to come over right away. The other one was from Arthur, asking if Martin had had anything to do with this turn of events and wouldn't he and Harry come visit as soon as possible since Molly was nearly around the bend with worry, as was he.

"Well?" Harry asked from the dining room. He'd found some tinned meat on which the two owls seemed happy to feast.

"Hermione wants to come here. Dad and mum want us at the Burrow. They're rightfully worried, Harry. You've got me a bit anxious, too."

"Anxious? Why?" Harry appeared honestly perplexed.

"Why?" Ron repeated. His inner subdued roilings began picking up the pace, now directed at Harry. "You've agreed to a farce of a briefing without putting up a fight and you don't even seem upset that you've been outed as a vampire."

"I'm not."

"Fine!" Ron said explosively. "But what the fuck's this about telling the world to get stuffed?"

"Not the whole world, Ron," Harry said, moving closer to take Ron's hand. "Just our world. How relevant are they to us anymore? We'll live forever. We can go anywhere, do anything. I have money, and we can disappear into any Muggle country we wish to, or find some isolated wizarding areas wherever we want. Isn't that brilliant?"

Ron blinked several times. The apparition in front of him certainly looked like Harry, and sounded like him as well. And yet… he sure didn't currently resemble the stubborn, occasionally jealous, but primarily good-natured man he'd known for two decades. "You were nearly killed multiple times while you were growing up, all for the defense of good in our world. Your parents. Don't you care about their sacrifice for you anymore? What about our friends and my family? What about me?"

Harry looked pityingly at Ron. In a normal universe, it would have made Ron's blood boil, but for some contrary reason it made a tremour of fear jangle down his spine instead. "Ron, I'd never leave you, not for all that long. But I see things so differently now. We don't have to pay attention to the stupid Ministry of Magic, or the Wizengamot, or anybody. Think about it: they don't even really want us. We're Dark Creatures. I'm a man-loving, well, you-loving vampire, an anomoly who's never done what any one person really wanted, except maybe Dumbledore."

Ron waited for the words to sink in, but it was as though they were raindrops falling on a stalwart Repello charm. "You killed Voldemort."

"Yes, but it was that or be killed. I didn't really do it for the betterment of the world as I knew it. I was determined to survive. I wanted for it all to be over and you and me to get on with our lives and play Quidditch and have sex and be bad influences on our friends' kids and travel and get older and just be normal."

"Couldn't be much further from normal now," Ron said in a low voice, withdrawing his hand from Harry's to go and stand by the fireplace.

"Ron, I don't understand," Harry said earnestly. "There's so much we can do! I know that you had a hard time at first, because you didn't ask to be like this, and you had me to worry about. But now I'm Changed, too. Who cares what people think? We're powerful enough to keep ourselves safe and we haven't killed anyone. There's no reason why anybody would try to set us on fire in our sleep or anything laughable like that."

"I'm just not ready to give up this life," Ron said, the misery of his and Harry's divide pulsing with each heartbeat. "I guess it's great that you are, but I can't. Not yet."

Soundlessly Harry padded over to Ron and pulled him away from the mantle and against his chest. "They're mortal, we're not. I surrendered that life to be with you, because after only a couple of months I knew it would make me crazy otherwise."

"I still want to be a Healer," Ron said in a voice muffled by Harry's untamed hair. "It hasn't been very long, and I don't want to just go off, no explanation, nothing. How can you wake up and decide you're done with it all? We hadn't even talked about what we wanted to do! Why are you so different from me?"

Harry rubbed Ron's back in comforting circles even as Ron's thirst began battering at his consciousness. They'd both need to drink, and soon.

"I don't know," Harry murmured against Ron's jaw. "My Change doesn't bother me, I don't know why. Maybe because I wanted it so desperately. It could just be us. We've been best mates for ages, but we're very different people. I'm incomplete without you, you know. But if you know you want to do something for a while, like try and convince our idiotic government that you should be allowed to practice as the skilled Healer you are and I need to go solo exploring or see what vampires in Iceland are like, or disappear into the Muggle world and not be Harry Fucking Potter for a while, we don't have the kinds of time restraints we used to." He rubbed his lips against Ron's cheek, mouthing a dry kiss. "I'd never really leave you— I can't. I don't want to. Not in the grand scheme of things. You're the only one I have desires for, and I can't imagine that those needs will go away.

Ron dug his fingers into the soft flesh at the top of Harry's arse. "Martin said they do," he said piteously. "But he didn't say how long it takes."

"Martin's not a wizard."

Harry stepped back so he could look at Ron. As Ron contemplated the lustrous, unnatural light in Harry's eyes, he sought the half-human part that was supposedly there, reflected in his own eyes.

"Don't you want to stick around and watch Xavier grow up, or see exactly when Hermione and Dean figure out their attraction to each other is the most painfully obvious thing since… well, it's stupid they aren't shagging now. The Cannons could win. You wouldn't care," Ron said.

"I've only ever supported the Cannons because of you."

"You know what I mean."

Harry tilted his head, his expression contemplative. "For so long I reckoned I'd die before seeing thirty. Now I'll be thirty-one forever, and it doesn't bother me to let our friends live their lives without me being a part of them. But you and I will always be together, even when separate. Our bond is only one step from being truly complete, and I don't feel rushed about things anymore. If you need to spend fifty years, or a hundred to stay in the wizarding world, or however long— you should. I probably won't be with you all the time, but we're beyond that now."

Ron stood mute, feeling as though Harry's words were bouncing rocks, smaller heralds of an avalanche not far behind.

"Drink from me, now," Harry entreated him. "We'll be sealed to each other forever, your vampiric blood in me, and mine in you. Then I'll owl Rita Skeeter and we can go together to the Registry, and I'll sign my name with bright red ink in that mouldy book right below the words Ronald Bilius Weasley. I'll talk for a bit, probably give back my Order of Merlin medal, and then we'll go feed, someplace Muggle and far away from here."

"You should keep your medal," Ron said, leaning in for a bittersweet kiss.

Stubbornly, inescapably, he felt his heart breaking into bits and fragments like pieces in a kaleidoscope. He knew they would form and reform in countless patterns and shapes, but never again would it be the whole it had once been. It was as though his spirit had been wrapped in a shroud, a shadow of the dread he'd felt during his first exposure to a Dementor. Closing his eyes as Harry offered his throat, Ron willed the prominence of his fangs before pressing them gently into the chilly flesh. Harry's blood filled his mouth, the taste similar to when he was a mortal, now even more rich and prismatic as it reverberated in his body. Ron drank deeply and gently until he knew any more would begin to weaken Harry. Unwilling to spill a drop, he licked around his lips as he stood upright.

Harry gazed at him, his untroubled expression almost putting Ron at ease. Let's get this next part over with, Harry said silently. I'll let Rita know we'll be at the Vampire Registry at ten while you firecall Hermione and your parents. I'm unbelievably thirsty, but don't want to try and sneak out at this point.

Okay. Ron opened his arms, trusting that Harry would read his vulnerable body language. Harry shuffled forward, wrapping his arms around Ron's ribs and holding him tightly.

I'm not going to go anywhere right away, I don't think, Harry said quietly. I promise you I'll never go without telling you first, and I'll always want you to come with me.

We'll see. Can't stand to think about it anymore right now. "C'mon. The sooner we start this mess the sooner it's over," Ron said, trying to garner strength in speaking the words aloud.

"We've faced far worse," Harry reminded him as they moved apart.

"I don't know that I've ever felt worse, though," Ron muttered to himself as he went to retrieve his wand and unblock their fireplace.

I'll make you feel better later, I promise.

I may need some time alone, just to think. But I'll probably let you take care of me before sunrise, Ron admitted.

Harry flashed a quick smile and headed to a desk to write his note as Ron set to his tasks.

* * * * *

By one a.m. it was done: Harry was a registered vampire. He'd answered a smattering of the deluge of questions lobbed at him by Rita and other journalists, providing only the basics in regards to actual information. His apology to his Quidditch team was profuse and heartfelt. He suggested that new studies be made into wizarding vampires and refused outright to name who had Made him, only stating unequivocally that it wasn't Ron. Thankfully the event wasn't as carnival-like as it could have been and they managed to get the crowd down to just Arthur, Molly, Hermione, Dean, Seamus and Draco. Afterwards, over some drinks at the Leaky Cauldron Harry filled in a few more details while Ron sat silently at his side. He ignored Hermione's ill-concealed attempts to get him to contribute to what had prompted Harry's decision, as well as Draco's jealous glances from Seamus to Ron and Harry. Perhaps Seamus had felt guilty and told Malfoy he'd asked Ron to drink from him back in November, and now Malfoy was worried Seamus would do it again with Harry. Ron was only too glad that it wasn't his problem.

He realised that except for Harry himself, there was really only one other person he could talk to about all of this. He thought about calling telepathically to Martin outright, but decided that his instinct to go off alone for a bit was probably sound. At a lull in the conversation, he acted on Harry's behalf.

"Look, Harry and I've got to feed. I'm glad you're not judging him, and it was great you all came to this last-minute stupid conference. We need to be getting on, and you all need sleep, too."

"Well, all right, but Harry!" Hermione demanded. "What are you going to do?"

The tension at the table was thick as chilled honey. Even Ron held his breath, unsure how Harry would answer.

"I'm going to recommend that you and Dean finally acknowledge how desperately fond of each other you are and go out on a proper date. Ron, let's go."

They left Hermione blushing and spluttering, Seamus slapping Dean good-naturedly on the back, and Molly's strained words of "Be careful, my dears," ringing in Ron's ears.

"Where should we go?" Harry asked excitedly.

"You go. Your blood's so strong I might not need to feed for several days. And honestly, my thoughts are going in such circles it's like a typhoon in my head. Think I'll go out to Tiree and have a long wander."

"Oh." Harry's disappointment was evident, though it seemed to pass quickly. "You'll still let me love on you before sunrise, right?"

"If you still want to." Ron hedged his bets, too heartsore really to think much more beyond the pure carnal release involved with a quick shag.

Harry put his arm around Ron and closed his teeth on Ron's earlobe. "I'll want to," he said, his voice low and promising. "Some things will never change." He breathed into Ron's ear, his tongue darting inside causing a frisson of pleasure in Ron despite himself.

"So you say," Ron said huskily.

Harry snorted, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and Apparated away. Ron pressed the flat of his fingers at the warm spot on his cheek before thinking of the house at Sandaig. With a crack! he vanished.

* * * * *

The wind ripped at Ron's hair and rain splattered his face as he flew, streaking through the inky sky before diving like an arrow shot from an overhanging cloud. He spun and looped upwards, relishing the drops as they battered his face and clothes. The cold and wet didn't bother him, and the inclement weather meant the few Muggles would be staying indoors. He was still adjusting to the feel of the broom — he'd borrowed Harry's old Comet VIII that was at the cottage — when he noticed a figure sitting on the roof of the house, his location and plaid cape giving the person away. With a sigh of thanks, Ron circled and swooped in, hovering next to Martin who appeared equally unperturbed by the storm.

"I'm glad to see you!" Ron yelled above the noisy elements.

Martin smiled. You were thinking of me and wished to see me. So here I am.

"Would you like to go for a ride?" Ron asked spontaneously. "I know you can fly, but I bet you've never been on a broom."

"Can't say that I have. All right."

Ron turned the broom around, adjusting for Martin's weight once the vampire was astride behind him. "You'll want to hold on to me," Ron suggested.

"Have no fear of that!" Martin assured him, grasping Ron firmly about the waist.

"Let's go!" Ron roared, kicking off from the roof. He didn't do anything too daring, though he did head out over the ocean, diving towards its choppy surface before skimming above it, their feet occasionally hit by spray. Martin let out a whoop from time to time, making Ron grin. Warmth bloomed in his chest as he pulled them in a tight arc, feeling Martin clutch at Ron's jacket; sharing the thrill of broom flight nudged away some of the malaise he'd felt from earlier that evening. The conversation with Harry came back to him full force, and he headed back to the cottage. While Martin was obviously enjoying himself, he'd come to talk with Ron. If Harry had been serious about recreational activities before settling in for the day, Ron couldn't spend hours flying, though it was tempting to do just that.

He pulled up to the back door and landed gently. Ron waited for Martin to get off the Comet before swinging his own leg over and holding the broom upright.

"I've never experienced anything quite like that," Martin said, his eyes sparkling against his rain-slick skin.

"Glad you liked it," Ron said, aiming his wand at the door to unlock it. "I'll cast a drying spell on our clothes once we're inside."

"I do resemble a drowned rat," Martin admitted, wringing out a sleeve above the hearth where Ron had started a fire with a hasty Incendio.

A few minutes later they were dry and sitting comfortably on the couch, watching the cheery flames.

"So, my youngling." Martin took Ron's hand and clasped it in his cold but comforting palms. "Am I correct in thinking that this has to do with Wren?"

"Wren? Oh, Harry," Ron said, drawing one knee up to his chest. "Yeah. He hasn't been a vampire for long at all and he's already decided he doesn't give a toss about our world anymore. I don't understand it. I don't want to leave everybody I know and care about behind, to just disappear and be a living phantom or something. I still want my old job, as pathetic as that is."

Martin stroked the tips of Ron's fingers. "It's not pathetic. Vampiric blood is a mysterious thing, perplexing at times even for those of us who don't have your additional powers. Your Making has made you more empathic and sympathetic to your own kind. Wren, on the other hand, is much more like us, but with his magic. He's bound to you, and therefore, to your people, but his instincts already point toward a traditional vampire life, if such exists. I didn't know him well before, but it was obvious when I recently saw him that he will prefer to be alone, to stake his own territory, with you as an exception."

Ron looked at Martin, certain he could see the sorrow Ron felt. "So…" he said lamely.

Come here, beloved, Martin beckoned. As before, Ron curled up on his side, his head in Martin's lap. He didn't feel stupid or childish, thank Merlin, just cared for as Martin rested his fingers on Ron's scalp and gently rubbed his back with his other hand.

You knew there was no way to predict how your Harry would react to becoming a vampire. As Wren, just as he was as Harry, he remains devoted to you, and for that you should be grateful. But you must let him go, to follow his own path, or it will make you mad with grief. I don't wish to be told by anyone, especially Wren, that you've destroyed yourself over him. Martin moved his hand to cup Ron's chin, turning his head up to look at him.

The light in you I hope will overpower any darkness caused by the solitude Wren now seeks. Should you ever begin to feel the pull of the fire, you must contact me. Do I make myself clear?

Traitorous tears prickled Ron's eyelids as he nodded, swallowing hard. Yes. I don't want to die, I just want Harry back. Even though I know I can't have that.

Martin shook his head slowly. "No, fledgling, you cannot," he said, punctuating the quiet of the room with his words. "But you can and should petition for your former job. You cared for the sick?"

"I was a Healer. Obscure hexes— old, sometimes really bizarre and nasty curses that people decided to cast on each other. I was good at intuiting what to do, and in evaluating their magic. It's pretty bloody complicated, the relationship between a wizard or witch and their magic. I was really proud of my skill, to be honest. What about you?" Ron was seized with a burning curiosity about the vampire who held him so affectionately. He'd figured out who Exchequers were, but he had no idea what Martin did with his long nights. He was half certain that Martin would tell him to mind his own business.

"Me? What did I do before?"

"You told me that. What about now?" Ron looked into Martin's strikingly ordinary face, unremarkable save his marble-like skin and luminous pale blue eyes. "Are you a loner?"

"Not as much as some. Like you, despite my Change, many of my mortal traits remained with me. I'm fascinated with money and the power it can yield, though of course it has no sway over me. I've watched currencies appear and disappear. Currently I'm a consultant for a large brokerage firm in London. They don't ask me many questions, and I enjoy researching various companies and banks and helping them invest to the best of their abilities."

"You're still basically a banker?!" Ron said, unable to hold in his laughter. "I should introduce you to my brother Bill. He worked at our massive bank, Gringott's. It's run by goblins. Merlin, I should take you there! You'd be astounded."

"Doesn't your kind have a great fear and distrust of vampires?"

"Yeah, but I may be able to change that." Ron was surprised at the hopeful tone in his voice. "I want to do that."

"Then you should," Martin said gently. "I'm very intrigued by a bank run by goblins. Perhaps in the years to come you'll show me more of your world, if you wish. I'd be happy to invest some of my funds in your Gringott's. One can never have too much diversity in one's portfolio."

Ron scrunched up his face in confusion. "Was that English?"

Martin softly chuckled. "It's investment speak." He leaned forward to brush Ron's fringe from his forehead before placing a lingering kiss on his smooth skin. "You should go back. You and Wren have plans?"

Ron was chagrined. "Was my mind open about that? Sorry."

Martin quirked an eyebrow and twisted his lips in a small smile. "Not to worry. A wave of thoughts came with your wish to see me, nothing explicit. But you should enjoy each other while you can."

"Oh. About that," Ron said, sitting up and determined not to be embarrassed. "You said before that after a while vampires don't care about stuff. Physical stuff."

"Usually that's the case," Martin confirmed, intertwining his fingers with Ron's. "You may have noticed that I feel a connection with you, however. Perhaps your magic saddles you with everlasting erotic desires that mostly ebb away for the rest of our brethren. Even for an adventurous individual, after a couple hundred years most explorations have been pursued, the most kinky or unseemly acts tried, their titillation spent. Some vampires find companions within our kind, or even more rarely, with mortals. Sexual pursuits simply become of little interest, but your magic may cause you to be an exception."

They stood and Martin held Ron close to him. "Don't let the future rob you of the pleasures of the present. An eternity awaits you, but even the millennia are lived moment by moment."

"Are we going to make it, do you think?" Ron asked cautiously, pulling back to gaze at his unexpected protector. "Harry and me?"

"I hope so, for your sake."

At the door, Ron readied himself to Apparate home before noticing there was no car parked on the lawn. "Did you fly?" he asked, newly aware of the wind and rain.

Martin nodded. "I have plenty of time to return to my coffin before sunrise. I'll hope to see you soon."

His cape billowed as Martin rose from the ground and flew off, arms at his sides. Ron watched until he couldn't see him anymore, then Apparated to the flat.

* * * * *

Ron listened carefully to Harry's moans and stream of entreaties.

"Yes, Ron, fuck, so good moremoremore, oh gods, fuck."

He sped up his sucking on the hard cock in his mouth and changed the angle of his fingers as they slid forcefully in and out of Harry's tight channel until Harry came with a loud wail. Ron swallowed several times, slowly massaging the nub in Harry's body until he begged Ron to stop. With a satisfied smile, Ron slid up to lie down next to Harry, who had already more than adequately pleasured Ron. Ron rested his head on Harry's chest, listening to his heart as it slowed to its usual, soothing beat, idly stroking his fingers against one of Harry's hips.

"Did you have a good talk with Martin?" Harry asked finally, draping an arm across Ron's back.

Ron nodded against Harry's ribs. "Yeah. How'd you know?" he asked, twisting his head around to look up at Harry, his hair sticking out in all directions.

"Please. I know you pretty well. Anyway, I'm glad. You didn't seem nearly as depressed. I don't want to make you unhappy, you know. But I know I won't be able to stay around like I used to as a mortal."

Ron rolled on his back and pulled Harry over so he was lying prone on Ron, their faces inches apart. "I know," he said, feeling an resounding ache in his heart. There would be so much he would miss of that life, of waking with Harry every night, of the daily companionship he'd been so used to for so long. "I'll feel like an amputee, Harry," he said, berating himself for getting emotionally worked up but then deciding these were his feelings and fuck it all, he was going to say what he felt. "There's something missing when you're not with me. I don't want you to go away, but I know you'll need to. Just come back to me, and stay for a while when you do, and I'm sure I'll go with you sometimes. I have things I need to do here, a lot of people I want to care for. Just don't leave me forever."

Harry shook his head, a sad smile drifting to his lips. "Can't. Don't want to. But this life, the wizarding life here where I can't go anywhere without being recognised, that's over for me. It's a huge world out there, and I'm going to explore it, one night at a time." He scooted up and held Ron's face in his hands before kissing him deeply. "And then, when you're ready, we'll both go."

Ron nodded, pulling Harry back down to him, anxious to have his familiar tongue in his mouth, to seek the hot cavern of Harry's mouth. They kissed deeply, conveying their love and trust and marrow-deep need for each other. Eventually Harry moved away, breathing heavily and a tired expression on his face.

"Close to sunrise," he stated. Ron felt it too, the inescapable call to rest and to darkness. "We need to go to our room."

Moments later they'd dressed in their informal nighttime attire and were curled into each other, the locks and wards in place.

"I got you something," Harry said, trying to stifle his yawn. "I wanted to remind you what you mean to me, especially during the times I'll be gone." He pulled a box off of the bedside table and handed it to Ron.

Ron opened it slowly, looking inside to a copper ring on a copper chain. "What's the engraving mean?" he asked, fingering the band, the language unfamiliar.

"It's Gaelic. Mo chuisle mo chroí. 'The pulse of my heart.'"

Ron let out a deep sigh. "Sentimental poof," he said, allowing Harry to fasten the sturdy chain around his neck.

"Your sentimental poof. Sunrise. Sleep," Harry said, tugging Ron down to the pillows. He was asleep in seconds. Ron watched his face relax, the scar on his forehead pale but still visible. He traced the faint lightning bolt with his finger.

"Semper foveberis," he whispered, the phrase from their handfasting bands so very appropriate on the cusp of a great unknown that stretched far into the future. The lulling, quiet sounds of Harry's even breathing drifted over him as he resisted the pull into slumber, wanting to watch him in this untroubled state as long as he could, enjoying the pleasures of the present as Martin had suggested. Finally at peace, a hand clasped around the ring lying on his chest, Ron surrendered to a long, dreamless sleep.

:~: end :~:

semper foveberis: Latin- 'you will always be cherished'

Comments

[shocolate.livejournal.com]

*is still a snotty mess*

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Oh… **consoles**

They're still together, and like you said at TQP, it's still many, many lifetimes. I'll include some of that in the epilogue. But this part of it needed to come to a close. I'm so glad you've been enjoying this; were it not for me being selected to write for you over a year ago, well, I wouldn't know about you at all, which would be a shame, and this, my longest fic ever, wouldn't have been written! Yay for Ron, who brings all good things together! :D

[shocolate.livejournal.com]

Yes, they are still together - I will cling to that.

Harry adores him - and, even if they want different things, now - well, they have all the time in the world to try everything!!

Oh goodness - *feels all special*

I love your Harry/Ron, I ever so do.

Ron is all things love, yes.

[stuckinsea.livejournal.com]

I love your Ron. You're Ron is just amazing. In all your stories, his character, the way he holds himself. Truly amazing. I'm in awe of this and I got all teary for Ron.

But you must let him go, to follow his own path, or it will make you mad with grief

*sniffle* Poor...poor Ron. Hopefully the epilogue will make him feel better...lol.

Again brilliant piece, sad to see it go. But what an ending.

[wolfiekins.livejournal.com]

The LAST chapter??? What??

*splutters*

Already? But but but, how so soon? There's so much...but...awww, hell.

And no, I scrolled down way way fast so as not to see anything...

*sigh*