A/N: Just so there's no confusion, this is not a Harry & Ron ship fic - strictly brotp here. There's some mentions of Hermione and Ginny but its mostly about the boys. Based on a prompt from tumblr. Hope you all enjoy!
Harry nodded his thanks to the departing healer before turning his attention back to his battered and bruised partner whose eyelids were beginning to droop. "Alright Ron?"
Ron smiled goofily, attempting to deliver a cheeky salute and nearly putting his own eye out in the process.
Biting back a snicker at Ron's indignant expression, Harry shuffled around the bed, slipping his dusty over-robes from his shoulders, draped them over the stiff plastic chair, and dropped into the torturous seat.
As soon as they'd arrived at St Mungo's – after checking Ron in with a Healer – Harry'd flooed Hermione at her hotel in Switzerland. She'd gone to consult on some new piece of legislation the Swiss ministry was promoting, partially inspired by some of Hermione's more recent work with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Follwing his brief explanation, she'd disappeared from the green flames in a flurry of bushy hair, barely pausing to disconnect. While she worked on getting fast track approvals to get back to the British Ministry, Harry dutifully stayed with a less than lucid Ron.
The aforementioned best mate was currently studying his hands, apparently aghast at the concept of fingers if his entranced expression and low exclamations were any clue.
Grinning to himself, Harry stood at the foot of the nondescript bed, toying with the chart that listed Ron's injuries and medical history. "So, Hermione is trying to get back."
Ron's brow furrowed for a moment, eyes glazed before he nodded jerkily, "That's good mate."
"Should I contact the family?"
"Sure," Ron said with a shrug, eyelids drooping again.
Delivering a comforting pat to Ron's blanket covered foot – or possibly ankle – Harry made to leave, "I'll floo Ginny and ask her to pass things along, maybe you'll be asleep by the time the circus arrives."
Ron laughed, fiddling with the scratchy white sheet. "Harry?"
Pausing with his hand on the door, Harry invites him to continue with a curious arched brow.
"Y'remember fourth year?"
With a smirk, Harry loped back toward the bed, perching at the end, careful not to jostle its occupant. "Bit hard to forget I'd say."
Tilting his head, Ron concedes the point, but plows ahead rather valiantly considering the high doses of potions coursing through his body. "The second task?"
Harry grimaced at that, "Mermaids."
Ron nods again, blue eyes cast toward his lap in a show of uncharacteristic bashfulness, ears and neck heating. "And- well- I was the thing you'd miss most?"
"Well of course. You're my Weezy," Harry answered seriously, fighting laughter. "Although I'd say my broom was likely a close second."
"Oi! As I was saying you tosser, I was the thing you'd miss."
Narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite following the thread of Ron's addled thoughts, Harry patted the red head's shoulder, "Right. We had quite the swim."
Huffing a laugh, Ron continued, "I was just thinkin', since you're marrying Ginny 'n' all-"
"Can't put anything past you Ronnikins."
Ron shot him an exasperated look but brushed the interruption aside, "Now she'll be your Weezy. Pr-Prob'ly already is."
"She is pretty important to me. And I seem to remember a certain brother getting uppity about making sure I wasn't 'messing her around,'" Harry answered, noting Ron's teary eyes uncomfortably.
His only reply was a sniff, swiping beneath his nose clumsily.
Harry toyed with his undone tie thoughtfully, loosing another button on his starchy white shirt, passing Ron his handkerchief wordlessly.
The duo sat in silence, broken only by the sounds of the late shift of healers making their rounds with patients and Ron's occasional sniffles, until Harry's face lit. "Y'know. We forgot something about me and Gin getting married."
Ron blew his nose with a loud honk, offering the handkerchief back to Harry, who brushed it off with a grimace as he explained, "Once we're married, she won't be a Weasley anymore."
Narrowing his eyes as if Harry was a shifty suspect he'd brought in for questioning, Ron gestured for him to continue.
"She'll be a Potter, so you can still be my Weezy."
Noting Ron's futile attempts to swallow, Harry helpfully passed him a cup filled with water and chipped ice. After taking a few small sips, Ron looked at him hopefully, face growing soppier as the potions continued to work their way through his system. "D'you mean it?"
Harry nodded with a grin, nearly choking on his tongue when Ron shot forward, grabbing at his dark locks roughly and placing a smacking kiss right over the faded scar on Harry's forehead. "You're the best."
A chuckle, somewhat camouflaged by a forced cough, sounded from the doorway as both men turned toward the door sharply.
Eyes raking over her fiancés prone form, Hermione's grin faded briefly as she catalogued his injuries. After a moment, when she was apparently convinced Ron was in good condition, relatively speaking, Hermione removed her crisply tailored cloak and hung over one of the hooks along the pale green wall, mischief lighting her eyes. "Shall I give you two another moment alone?"
Blushing, Harry shook his head, making to resume his task of notifying the rest of the Weasley clan. Once again, Ron brought him to a halt with grasping hands, attempting a whisper, "I don't know who that bird is, but d'you think I've got a shot?"
Harry caught Hermione's jovial gaze, gesturing toward Ron, "I'll let you handle this, then."
With a few quick strides, Harry reached the door, pulling it closed behind him as Ron's flirtatious voice sounded, "Did you know I'm Harry Potter's Weezy?"