for @drarrymicrofic - fair - rating g - wc 725
The thing about Harry, Ron thought, was that he'd always been terrible at hiding things, utterly ubbish and completely transparent. You always knew exactly what Harry was feeling because it was just there, on his face, available to anyone who looked.
They were trailing about ten feet behind Hermione and Draco, who had somehow locked into conversation approximately forty seconds after arriving and hadn't surfaced since. Something about, empirical and reductive and Ron tuned out, because he loved Hermione more than anything but there were limits on how his his brain functions.
Harry, on the other hand, hadn't tuned out. He was watching them walk ahead, watching Draco specifically, if Ron was being precise, which he was, with an expression that could only be described as catastrophically fond. Ron looked away, looked back and away again.
"Good candyfloss," he offered.
Ron gestured at the stick in Harry's hand, the candyfloss going slightly crispy in the evening air, untouched. Harry looked down at it like he'd forgotten it existed, which he had, Ron realised because he'd bought it, and then Draco had said something, and Harry had just stopped mid-bite and apparently stayed that way for the last five minutes.
"Eat your candyfloss, mate."
"Right." Harry ate some as his eyes drifted forward again.
Ahead, Draco was gesturing, one of those precise gestures he did when he was making a point and Hermione was nodding in that way that meant she was about to disagree very thoroughly. Her voice floated back, “ - but that entirely ignores the - “
Draco said something Ron couldn't catch. Harry made a noise, barely audible and Ron stared at him. It had been, fond wasn't even the right word anymore as it had gone beyond fond. Harry was looking at the back of Draco's head like it was something remarkable, like it was, Ron didn't know, a sunset, or maybe a very good book and something worth stopping for.
The grin was the worst part. Harry didn't even know he was doing it, just this stupid, helpless grin that Ron was fairly certain was not meant to be witnessed by anyone and definitely not by Ron, who now had to carry it around in his brain forever.
"You keep staring at him," Ron said.
"I'm not doing anything of that sort."
"I'm just, they're right there and I'm looking ahead."
Ron ate some of his own candyfloss and said nothing.
"He's been talking about that exhibit for two weeks," Harry said, very casually, like Ron had asked. "The one at the - he mentioned it twice. He pretends he doesn't care about things but he brings them up twice, that's how you know he -" He stopped. "Anyway."
The grin had come back, worse than before. Harry was looking at Draco's hands now, still gesturing, with an expression of such unguarded softness that Ron had to look away out of some basic sense of decency because it felt like accidentally walking in on something private. Ahead, Hermione laughed at something and then Malfoy glanced back, just briefly, and automatically his eyes found Harry, and something passed over his face that Ron clocked and filed away and absolutely intended to tell Hermione about later.
Harry lifted a hand, a stupid little wave. Malfoy looked at him for a half-second longer than necessary and turned back around and Harry's grin went, somehow, worse.
"Ron," he said, very quietly.
"I'm in a lot of trouble."
Ron looked at his best friend, the candyfloss, the grin, the helpless eyes tracking one specific person through a crowded fairground, and thought, I know. I've known for months. We've all known.
"Yeah," he said. "Bit late to warn you now though, isn't it."
Harry laughed, and didn't argue. They walked on. Hermione and Malfoy moved further ahead, still deep in it, and the fair went on around them, lights and noise and the distant shriek of the rides, smell of deep fried food, and Harry wore his heart on his face the way he always had, the way Ron had always been able to read like a book. Ron ate his candyfloss and said nothing else because some things you just let happen.
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