The apple of Ron's eyes
The apple of Ron’s eyes was standing right there on the street corner, waiting for him all coy, gleaming under the sunshine. All the guys on the street almost breaking their necks to have another peek on the beauty. Oh, the gorgeous thing!
Ron straightened his hair before crossing the sidewalk in two long steps towards his girl. "Hey, baby, are you ready for a ride?" He asked thrilled with his newly acquired yellow mustard Dodge Magnum.
“She took a bath yesterday”, Mister Wilson, the former owner of the Dodge, told him. “She’s full, new oil… 14,000 mile run, believe it or not. I myself had her polished this morning”.
Ron gave a sigh of delight. "You've made a man very happy today, Ricky." Ron greeted him solemnly.
“I hope so, boy, you have a precious treasure in your hands now. Do not make me regret to have it sold to you”.
“She is in good, skilled hands now, Ricky. I gonna make her so good”.
Rick Wilson seemed to hesitate a second before reaching the car’s documents in his back pocket and hand them over to Ron; then hesitated another moment before letting the key fall into the man’s extended hand.
"Hmmph!" He muttered suspiciously. Dismissing one last desolate look on the Dodge, a pat of farewell on the polished ceiling, Wilson walked away from the car shuffling his feet.
"Hey, wanna a ride?" Ron yelled excitedly, waving the key in the air, but the former car owner just made a sign of dispense with his hand and vanished around the street corner. The redhead turned his attention to his ‘baby’, dusting a nonexistent dust off the car, an enormous grin plastered on his face. “Oh, just you and me, finally. Wanted you for so long, love. Gonna make you feel so good now, babe.” He settled into the driver's seat with the reverence someone would keep to a sacred temple.
Ron was so distracted playing casually with his wand on the panel and triggering the various mechanisms of the car that he didn’t even notice Harry climbing the phone cabin coming from the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic.
“Hey, Ron, what’s with the car?” Potter asked almost impressed while leaning against the driver’s door. He would be completely impressed if the concern of having Ron behind a wheel wasn't tormenting his subconscious.
"It's mine!" The redhead was beside himself with pride. "It is a Dodge Magnum 79 Auto: Luxury and sportiness in one car".
Harry's eyebrows disappeared under his fringe.
“And where in hell did you get a ‘Dodge Magnum 79 Auto: Luxury and sportiness in one car’?
“On the corner. It was open, so I got inside and took it for me. I bought it of course, git.”
“And WHY didn’t you tell me you were buying a car?” Harry tried not to look offended, but failed miserably. “We have a car.”
“No, you have a car, baby, you don’t let me near it, remember? Besides, you are my mate, mate, but you are also a nosy. You’d be giving hints and saying I can’t drive right and blah blah blah blah.”
“But it’s true!”
"RON!", Harry sighed. “Ron, you hit your drive instructor while trying to get your license.”
“Yes, but then I’ve got the license!”
“Just because you Confunded her!”
“So what? I had just forgotten to look at the outside rearview. No one can be accused of not knowing to drive just because they forgot to look at the mirror one tiny bit.
“Oh, of course not, whatever!” Harry threw his hands up to the sky. The only person who could win Ron in discussions was Molly Weasley, and that because she would threaten him with suspension of food. Maybe Harry should consider adopting her tactic.
He snorted angrily and walked away from the car to take a good look at it. Ron had returned to play with his wand on the panel.
Harry had to admit, the Dodge was a beauty! Original chromed wheels, as well as the front and rear bumpers, door handles, rearviews and every detail that made the car. The yellow mustard seemed extravagant at first glance, but a second look told it was the perfect color for a car like that. When Harry heard the sound of the engine turning, he surrendered and began to imagine Sunday mornings in which he and Ron would be washing and polishing every inch of the car, only to fog up the windows to make palm prints in the condensation, if you understand what I mean. Harry's creative imagination made the best of it and he decided he could live with a motorized Ron with that meant happiness like that.
When Harry finally arrived in front of the Dodge to communicate his decision to Ron, he noticed the car plate: HR 6969.
That was fucking sweet!
Harry would never admit it, but he felt like vomiting rainbows and hearts, and the sound that escaped from the back of his throat was worthy of a thirteen-years-old little girl.
Which scared the hell out of Ron, who bumped his foot on the accelerator pedal.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH", Harry and Ron screeched when the Boy-Who-Was-Hit flew over the Dodge onto the sidewalk.
"OHMYGODRIC!!! OHMYGODRIC!!!”, Ron was hysterical when he stepped out of the car to rescue Harry, who was groaning painfully, sprawled on the sidewalk. "Harry! Harry, did you die?" He asked with a very squeaky voice.
“Oh, Morgana, I think I did! It hurts!" Harry mumbled, before fainting.
Harry had opened his eyes to that ceiling hundreds of times before to know exactly where he was.
He sat down and cried in pain with the dead weight of his left leg. The tingling feeling in the back of the knee told him that his bones were in process of re-re-re-re-regrowth.
"Harry?" A timid voice called; a voice that Harry had learned to recognize as guilty. He looked up and found the red head of his boyfriend peeking behind the curtain.
Harry threw the bottle of Skeletgrow towards the head.
"Ouch," someone moaned as Ron dodged and the bottle ended on the bed behind him.
"You TRAMPLED me!" Harry's voice came out more indignant than angry.
"Technically you stepped in front of my car, scared the hell out of me and the car ran over you."
“Trampling is a very strong wor-"
“Ouch...”, someone moaned when the jar of flowers that Harry had threw, flew past Ron’s left ear and hit them.
"What's your problem? You hit me with a car!!!"
"You freaked me out! Besides, what kind of scream was that? It sounded like a banshee with constipat- AHH, SORRY, I’M SORRY!!!" Ron yelled while dodging a box of chocolate frogs, a candlestick and a comb ("Oh. Oh. My eye!").
Harry tried to throw the pedal of serum, but it was stuck to the floor with a Sticking Charm. Having nothing more to throw, he gave the finger to Ron instead.
Weasley had to concentrate in some dirty stuck on the wallpaper to stop laughing, because he thought Harry would be offended if he laughed his ass off at that moment.
"Look, why don’t we forget about it for now?" He suggested after a notoriously dangerous moment of silence. "The healer said you can’t get stressed while the bones grow. It might grow two in place." Something in Harry's expression told him that the matter would not be put aside so easily, but suddenly a glow of knowing that Ron knew somewhere lit the green eyes and Harry's scowl softened slightly.
"You're right. We've been through much worse."
"Worse? HA! You must be kidding. This is nothing! Remember that Quidditch match in the second year? Your arm seemed to be made of jelly," Ron shook his arm in the air, taunting Harry.
"Oh, do not remind me! And Hermione still had the courage to defend Lockheart," Harry and Ron said the name of their former professor together, laughing at the memory of how their friend was predisposed to knock things over when the charlatan smiled around her.
“Mione... she’s bonkers, that one.” Ron said with affection.
“Don’t talk about her like that, Ron. She’s just a little…”
“Do you remember when she went all mental ‘cause we needed fire to ward off the Devil’s Snare, but she didn’t know where to find wood?”
Harry had a good laugh. "If you hadn’t warned her in time that she was a witch, she might have burnt down her own wand."
“Yeah, but her most fantastic moment was that punch in the Ferret’s pointed face!”
“That was bloody brilliant! Just don’t tell Draco this.”
“Draco Malfoy – The Amazing Bouncing Ferret! That was the moment of my life.”
“I remember a time, in 1958…,” the Someone on the other bed managed to say before Ron closed the screen on his face. “After blinding me with a comb, the least you could do was listen to my story”, came the aggrieved voice muffled by the screen. Ron scowled over his shoulder for a moment, but then shrugged and turned to Harry with a thoughtful expression.
“Speaking of 1958... Remember that time on the beach...” he began, rubbing his chin.
"What does 1958 have to do with the beach?"
"Um... I don’t know... whatever. Remember that time on the beach, when that crab pinched your thumb?" Ron had to pause to contain a fit of laughter. "George still keeps on his mantelpiece a picture of you hopping on one foot, almost in tears."
“Oh, so much fun, Ronald... Look how I’m laughing myself to tears now!” Harry commented dryly, but his moronic of a boyfriend continued giggling like a sobbing baboon. “Can’t say you looked that much virile in the Forbidden Forest full of spiders. ‘May I panic now, Harry?’” Harry cried in a falsetto. He knew that joking with Ron’s arachnophobia was a low blow, but that made the git stop.
"They were spiders! Hairy spiders! Huge! And they talked, do not forget that. If they were butterflies..." Ron straightened up when he saw the mocking smirk on Harry’s lips. "It’s not like you could brag yourself too! I remember too well your hysterical yelling when Black tried to kill me with a knife in third year, and I had to bravely expel him from our dorm!"
“MY hysterical yelling? I've banged the head and you are the one with confused brains. You must be remembering that it was you too the one yelling like a girl and waking up all Gryffindor Tower. You literally jumped into my bed, Weasley!”
“That’s your point of view. I was clearly checking if you were alright.”
“You are a smart ass, aren’t you? Was super smart in the Department of Mysteries too… Accio brain... Were you in need of one at the time?”
The Someone behind the screen burst out laughing.
“Bugger off, you twat!” Ron bellowed toward the other bed. “I was seduced by that brain”, he turned to a grinning Harry, trying to maintain a shred of dignity.
“Lavender seduced you too, Won Won?” Harry pouted, making crazy eyes and smacking his lips for the as red as a tomato redhead. Ron was getting none of that.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Potter... You know too well that that Lavender thing was a phase... a denial phase, and that I am and always have been your Wheezy, the thing you would miss the most.”
Some rouge tinged Harry’s cheeks, but he knew where Ron was leading him, so he didn’t let the ball fall.
“Don’t brag yourself. Do not forget to whom the Deluminator guided you in the Forest of Dean. Besides, you know I just love you for your freckles,” the Boy-Who-Was-Cynical said with a mischievous air.
Ron tried to look offended, but the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He shook his head in disbelieving when Harry started laughing, then sighed. "There was a time I thought you liked Ginny’s freckles bestt..." he spoke as if he didn’t mean anything, but Harry was expecting something like that. His grin got bigger.
“Nah, Ginny is not my type. That hair…” The Boy-Who-Lived-Through-a-Pillow-War was out of breath when Ron finished him. “You know what, this talk about freckles reminds me of one more thing.”
"What?" Ron asked innocently, still holding a fluffy pillow in attack position.
“Your so grave case of Spattergroit- OUCH! Only it was not as grave as your case of vampirism. Better: a vampire with Spattergroit!” Harry was laughing his ass off while under a pillow attack. The pain in the leg momentarily forgotten. Things were that easy when with Ron.
“That was a brilliant plan, you are just unable to understand the genius of it. The vampire being me with Spattergroit.”
“Brilliant, Ron... almost as brilliant as eating a whole box of chocolate cauldrons stuffed with love potion. Romilda Vane…”
“What with the prejudice? She’s got beautiful eyes… And you threw that box on my bed, I thought it was a gift and ate it.”
“It was on the floor, Ronald! And you eat anything you find, anyway.”
Ron was formulating a formal protest against that calumny, when the infirmary door opened to let inside a breathless Molly Weasley, followed closely by a worried Arthur. The woman pushed Ron out of her way and threw herself on Harry, crushing the boy in a bear hug.
“Oh, Harry, darling, we were so worried about you. Almost crazy in concern. Ginevra doesn’t know how to write down a proper message, what happened? Are you in terrible pain? Are you hungry? Arthur, do something, the boy is suffering!”
“Molly, for Morgana’s sake, let the man breath!”
Molly Weasley finally let Harry go – who took a large breath – and turned a reproachful expression toward her husband.
"Alright, settle it your way then," she made a careless signal with her hand, then noticed her child huddled against the hospital bed. Ron, who was for once glad with his mother pampering over Harry, flinched when her eyes crossed with his. "Oh, darling, how are you? And where have you been while your husband was being hit by cars, young man?"
Ron had the decency to blush while covering Harry’s mouth with his hand.
"Mom, come on, you're stressing for nothing. See how Harry is well? Flushed and everything, just look. OUCH!" Harry gave him a good bite on the hand.
“Stressing for nothing? Your husband was hit by a car and you say I’m stressing for nothing, Ronald Bilius? - Ron murdered Harry with a look when he giggled. – I better not have raised you to be so careless. Harry could have been gravely hurt. He could have had sequelae. He could have died!” Harry nodded emphatically, completely agreeing with her point.
"Why, Molly, calm down. The healer – the one you didn’t stop to listen - said that the distance between Harry and the car was too short to wreak havoc… and he’ll be completely fine in a few days."
"Which was very fortunate." Molly insisted. She approached Harry, slightly calmer, and brushed his fringe from his face tenderly. "You sure you're okay, honey? You look so pale..."
Harry gave a furtive look at Ron, who had his eyes wide.
“Yes, I’m fine, Molly, my leg still hurts, but just until the bones are back in place. The healers already did everything they could.”
Molly did not seem too convinced. In general, she was of the opinion that the healers were not able to handle everything satisfactorily, but this time she opted for a low grumbling to herself as she adjusted the blanket over Harry’s legs and soothed his hair.
"We’re relieved that all is well, Harry. Hopefully, we can get you home soon,” Mr. Weasley said, one arm around his son’s shoulders.
"Yes, he’ll probably be released in two or three days at most, the healer told me. Leg bones take longer to grow.” Ron was satisfied the subject seemed to hover on calmer waters.
“Yeah, but at least I take some vacation." Harry and Arthur laughed amicably and Ron followed them with a half-hearted smile.
Mrs. Weasley, however, was frowning.
"What I do not understand is how it all happened. What were you doing near that car, darling? Could you see who did this to you?"
In a distant future, when asked, Ronald Weasley would remember the maniac smile that sprouted on Harry’s face and those crazy eyes full of mischief; looks that he had only seen on his own siblings faces until now. And to his total dismay, Ron would realize then that that was the very moment Harry Potter showed the world that he was, in fact, a Weasley to the bones.
If Ron hadn’t a dizzy head and a ridiculous pain in the ass, he would have gone to the trouble of trying to figure out where he was.
"Where am I?" He groaned.
"Nursing 426, Mr. Weasley. The apprentice healer will soon bring a potion for your head," said a blur over Ron, whom he assumed was a nurse. Nurse. Hospital. St. Mungus. Harry. His mother. Oh!
The nurse finished attaching a bandage around his head and turned away to leave the room. Ron tried to turn left, but his body ached there. He attempted to turn right, but that side ached too. Finally, he laid again on his back with a groan, which was followed by a moan of pain and a dirty word.
He vaguely heard a giggle coming from behind his left screen.
"Kiss my hot arse, you loon!" He yelled elegantly to Someone.
He heard a familiar giggle coming from his right side and opened the screen. It was Harry, obviously, turning a page of his magazine with the most annoying blasé expression.
“Mischief managed”, said Harry, blinking an eye and blowing him a kiss.
This work was originally written in portuguese (brazilian) and translated into english for the Harry and Ron Reunion on Livejournal (Autumn 2014 - Spring in Brazil =D).
I am not an english speaker, I've given my best so I hope the writing is good enough. =P