Part Six - Inside His Mind

Harry was amazed by his friend. Not only had he known both him and the mother of his twins for more than fifteen years, but he knew him as a coward. Not the irritating kind, but the cute kind. The kind that would stand shivering and stottering behind you, scared to talk, scared of the tiniest spider, and well known for his excuses on behalf of others. Sure was he a great friend who would stand up for any friend of his, but to tell the hurtfull truth, and might end up crying? No, not a likely thing to witness from the youngest Weasly-boy. And to tell the truth and mye be laughed at, and told to be a fool? Even less likely. But even so. Despite all that.
There he was, an armlenght in front of him, even holding onto his hand, very much real, telling Harry about his well hidden feelings. Telling him of all the times he had had a desire to hand Snape over to the Whomping Willow, for the mere sake that he was treating Harry like air, or worse, like dirt. Well aware that the feelings Harry tried to hide from his co-professor, was not hate, but love, or at least something close to it.
After listening for what seemed like forever, drying his tears occationally, and in general feeling sorry for his best friend, he felt like he was completely dried out. Not only had he never seen these feelings that Ron had been hiding from him, but he had never believed him, when he had tried to tell. There was not many feelings he knew better than the one of beeing misunderstood, and yet he couldn’t begin to understand the hurt he must have brought upon his friend. And for so long. Ron had actually tried to tell, and Harry had only laughed and shook his head. Ron had tried, and he had refused to listen. How could he not have listened, when he for years had felt the same towards Severus, and still he didn’t recognice the hurtful truth when it was served to him on a silver platter. Was it even possible. That his love for Severus had made him that blind. Completely blind.
Harry couldn't help asking, if the feelings were still there. If Ron still felt for him. He reassured a couple of times that it would have made no difference then, and that he still only saw male beauty in the older ones, but he wanted to know. He wanted to be sure, that his best friend didn’t walk around hurt every day.
A flash of red, came over Ron's neck as he nodded, and admitted that he sometimes had to fight it off. And Harry laughed. Not at the confession, but at the blushing. That was more the typical Ron, the one he knew. Ron assured him that the feelings he felt now, was not hurt. He loved Hermione too much. And seeing Harry and Severus both being happy, with each other and with themselves, made it obvious to him, that this was the right thing. All four of them were happy. And – he added. He would have told him, if he had asked. He would have joined him in the pensieve, and guided him along the way. It would have been better that way. And he was sorry for the hit to Harrys head, but as he also commented a couple of times during the talk…the pencieve IS actually a brutally honest diary. Nothing hidden, and would best be viewed accompanied by the one the thoughts was gathered from.

Harry could nothing but agree, and reached over to give him another hug, and apologize, when a green flash lit up the dark office.