Author: Debbie
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Summary: Harry and Ron stretch out in the grass and discuss plans for the future. Short and fluffy H/R.
Author's Note: Written for Tarie's birthday and inspired by Greeksong's amazing artwork
"So...have you thought about what you want to do when N.E.W.T.s are over?" Ron asked as he lay sprawled on his back in the grass. He could just see Harry out of the corner of his eye, lying sideways just beyond his feet.
"I dunno," Harry answered slowly. "I've worked my arse off at Potions just to prove to Snape that I could pass the Potions N.E.W.T. and become an Auror, so I guess that's what I'll do. I get the impression it can't be much worse than stuff I've been doing for the past seven years." He gave a wry smile in Ron's direction.
"Yeah, I guess so. Being an Auror will probably be a cakewalk for you after fighting You Know Who so many times." The grass began to tickle his back so he sat up and propped his arms on his bent knees. "I wish I could go with you."
Harry pushed himself up on one elbow so he could see Ron better. "You've got an offer to be an assistant strategist for the Canons - I think that's bloody brilliant, personally, and a lot more fun."
"But it's not doing something meaningful, like you and Hermione are doing," Ron answered a bit morosely.
"It's meaningful to a Canons fan," Harry pointed out. "And besides, you've been unofficially helping the Order with their strategies for the past two years. Once we're finally allowed to join properly, I'm sure you'll be able to do even more." He reached out and began lightly skating his fingers over Ron's foot, carefully not looking at the red-haired boy. "By the way," he said, a bit too casually, "what would you think about sharing a flat in London?"
"I -- what?" Ron stammered. He had secretly been wishing they could find a way to stay in close proximity after leaving the built-in intimacy of their Hogwarts dormitory, but he hadn't been prepared for Harry to make an offer.
Harry's fingers curled around Ron's toes, while his other hand plucked at the grass. "You don't have to," he answered quietly. "I just thought ... it might be nice. I've never lived by myself before, and with the rigours of Auror training and all, I thought it would be easier if I had my ... my best mate to come home to." He looked up at Ron uncertainly. "The Canons have their base in the city during off-season, so I just thought...." He trailed off.
Ron was caught between wanting to answer and wanting to snog the daylights out of Harry. The casual caress of Harry's fingers over his toes was going straight to his groin; he felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. "I'd like that," he managed. "A lot." Then he gave up the losing battle and reached down to pull Harry toward him. "How could you think I wouldn't want to live with you? Are you nutters?" he asked after planting a kiss on that much-loved mouth.
Harry shrugged from where he lay sprawled over Ron, looking a bit sheepish. "I didn't want to assume. You've lived your whole life with crowded quarters - I thought maybe you'd want your own place for awhile."
Ron shook his head as he shifted Harry more comfortably atop him. "I want to be with you."
Harry kissed Ron soundly in response. "I want to be with you, too," he whispered softly.
"Just one condition, though," Ron said. "I pay my share of the rent and food and stuff." He smiled. "It's nice knowing I'll have my own money for once!"
"Deal - although you know that stuff isn't important to me."
"It's important to me, though."
Harry smiled. "I know. But you're more important." He squinted up at the sun. "I suppose we should get back soon," he said, reluctantly rolling off Ron and reaching for his t-shirt.
"Yeah, I guess so." Ron found his own rumpled shirt and pulled it on, then reached for Harry's Firebolt. "Who steers this time?"
"You do." Harry climbed on the broom toward the back and gave a mischievous grin. "I get to be the one who distracts the flyer this time."
"You're never going to let me forget the time I licked your neck and you nearly flew into a tree, are you?"
"Nope." He grinned again. "Come on, let's go home."
[End]
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