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This year Harry was spending his holidays at the Weasleys house, not alone in Hogwarts like the last ones.
Well he had never really been alone in the literal way. He wasn’t the only one without a real family, that would be ridiculous. But he had always been alone in the sense that his friends had left to go visit their families.
With his mind still wrapped up in past memories, he absently opened the bathroom door, without knocking.
He expected to encounter a Ron who was brushing his teeth or at most washing his face.
“Hey Ron, have you seen my bo-“, he broke of, swallowing down the rest of his sentence when he realised what he was looking at right now.
In front of him was Ron, staring at him with his eyes wide open in shock, shining with tears that he seemingly fought to hold back.
His trembling hand was holding a scissor and shiny locks of ginger hair were scattered on the ground and in the sink, almost like shards of broken glass or maybe even orange leaves that the autumn wind had ripped of trees.
The light in the bathroom wasn’t exactly the strongest, but it was enough to highlight his pale skin and make the dark eyebags stand out even more.
Harry didn’t know what to say, every word he could think of getting stuck in his throat, while he just stared. And Ron stared back, the only movement being his shaking fingers, which held onto the scissor as if it was a lifeline.
The silence stretched over them like a heavy and uncomfortable blanket while Harry still tried to sort in the situation.
And then suddenly he remembered how Ron had asked him if his hair had gotten to long. If it made him look feminine.
Back then Harry hadn’t given the situation a second thought-why should he?- but now it all made sense.
He took a careful step closer, almost as if he was scared to startle the other.
Harry knew he would never fully understand what Ron was feeling in moments like this and he was glad that he would never need to. But he knew that it was still important to be there for his friend and help him as much as he let him.
So when he opened his mouth this time the words actually made it out instead of dying in his throat.
“You want some help with that?”, he asked in a calm and considerate voice, his eyes searching for Rons, to tell him that it would be okay.
Ron didn’t answer, his lips pressed together, as if he was trying not to break out in tears right there and then, the vulnerable look in his eyes making Harrys chest tighten.
He hated seeing the normally so cheerful ginger like this and he wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him it would be okay, but he knew better than doing so.
The brunette wizard took another step closer and opened his hand for Ron to give him the scissors. “Come on”, he spoke calmly, “Let me help you fix this”
Ron hesitated for a moment, his lips still pressed up in a small line as he handed over the scissors.
Harry smiled slightly trying to take away some of the tension as he slowly lifted his free hand to comb through the disaster of a haircut Ron had right now.
He waited for the others facial expression to relax at least a bit, before he tried to ease the situation with a joking remark, just like Ron would probably do it in his place.
“So this was what you were going for? Not to be mean but it looks like Scabbers got tangled in your hair”
He got a “Fuck off” in return, but it had no bite and he could swear he had seen a small smile hush over the others lips.
Harry chuckled quietly and shook his head.”Don’t let your mother hear how mean you are towards me”, he grinned, glad that the humor did in fact help at least a bit.
He gently placed a hand on Rons shoulder and steered him over to the stool that the Weasleys kept in their bathroom for whatever reason and made him sit on it.
Then he ran his fingers through his hair again trying to get a vision of what he could do for Ron.
He wasn’t a bad hairstylist considering that he mostly needed to cut his hair on his own when he had lived with the Dursleys, but Rons hair was a mess to say the least.
“Any specific wishes?”, he asked, his voice now softer again.
Ron shrugged his shoulders in response “Just short I guess”, he said with a resignation that made Harrys heart ache.
He knew this was about more than just the hair. It was about insecurity, about a dysphoria that cut deeper than these old scissors ever could and he was beyond thankful that Ron trusted him enough to let him this close to his heaviest struggle.
Silence fell over them again, but this time it wasn’t suffocating it was just..them. Just the moment between the two of them.
Harry focused on turning the messed up layers into a decent cut, while Ron watched every move of him either in the mirror or the corner of his eyes.
It took a good while but at some point Harry was pretty much satisfied with his creation, so he gently ruffled through Rons hair with a nod.
“What do you think?”, he asked Ron, who responded with silence. “It’s uhm good”, he forced over his lips, curling them up into a small smile.
Harry was well aware that the uncertainty wasn’t because of the haircut itself. It was because of the girl Ron believed to see in the mirror, so the brunette dint make a snarky remark.
Instead he asked Ron to look at him, which the ginger did. His questioning gaze was fixed on Harrys brown eyes as he spoke again, his voice as soft as a breeze, so most as if he was talking to something so fragile, that only one loud sound could break it to pieces. “You believe me right?”, he asked and Ron nodded.
“Good”, Harry noted, and turned the others head back to the mirror, holding his chin in a tender grip. If Ron wanted to free himself he could, without any force, but he didn’t.
“Do you know what I see when I look into this mirror? When I look at you?”
Ron shook his head.
Harrys eyes were fixed onto Rons Reflexion and he lowered himself a bit, to create a careful, barely noticeable proximity as he continued talking.
“I see a pretty and handsome guy. A creative and kind soul. A talented wizard. I see someone who is stronger than he realises and who is loved for who he is”
His tone was genuine and firm, but still not lacking softness.
He felt his aching heart warm up when he saw Ron cracking a small, this time genuine smile and ruffled through his hair for a last time, before letting go of his chin and standing up straight again.
“Now come on and let’s get that pretty face to bed, huh”, he spoke and then cleaned the bathroom with a spell that Mione had spent hours teaching him.
God bless her rare moments of patience.
Then he reached out for Rons hand to pull him up. But to Harrys surprise he felt two arms wrap around him as soon as Ron stood. It was an act of pure emotion and thankfulness and Harry felt honoured to be the one Ron was holding onto in this moment.
He carefully returned the hug, his left hand soothingly ghosting over the others back.
Ron didn’t say anything. Not when the hug ended, not when they walked to his room and not even when he closed the door behind them. He looked tired and worn out and this showed once more that this had been about much more than a simple haircut.
Before Harry could get to the mattress Molly had prepared for him, Ron grabbed his shirt and pulled him into his own bed instead.
As soon as Harry had turned of the light with his spell-Ron wouldnt even talk for this, Harry had seen that in his eyes so he gladly did it- Ron wrapped his arm around Harrys Torso and buried his head against the others Chest.
Harrys hand automatically found its way into Rons hair, his fingers running through it with pure tenderness.
He could feel tears wetting his shirt, but he said nothing about it. He just pulled Ron a slight bit closer and pressed a gentle kiss onto the top of his head.
“I’m proud of you”, he whispered into the ginger hair, hoping Ron could even hear it.
And this was one of the moments in which Harry wished for nothing bur Ron to realise that he was perfect, that he was the prettiest boy one could know. That he was enough.