Dandelions

I SPENT MY WHOLE SUMMER WITH MY CRUSH ONLY TO REMEMBER I HAVE A BOYFRIEND

TW for mild/casual racism due to the times(1990's) and internalized homophobia

"It was not that funny," Rory grumbled to uproarious laughter from the rest of the train compartment.

"Oh, yes it was," George corrected, hand placed over his stomach as he wheezed out a few more chuckles.

George and Fred had just finished telling an, apparently, hilarious story during one of the first few days he'd been at the Burrow over the summer holiday. It had been going just swell, and Rory was really feeling the color seep back into his life with every hour he spent around the twins. Running through the orchard had been just as he imagined it, and impromptu quidditch matches in the middle of the largest wheat field he'd ever seen were just as lively as they could be.

He'd actually been showering after a long day of being outside, the last thing he wanted was to reek of sweat at the dinner table on his first night there, and he was standing in front of the mirror--staring the biggest smile he'd had since summer holiday had begun. Well, he hadn't even had the chance to lock the door before someone barged in and screeched loudly.

"Mum!" Ginny cried loudly, "There's a black man in the bathroom!"

"That's where he's supposed to be, last I checked," Molly shouted back, "You don't remember Rory?"

Ginny had no recollection of him at all. It's not like he'd said hello several times at platform nine and three-quarters by then, or, you know, like he was one of her brothers' best friends? Now, it had been reduced from a humiliating moment to a funny story to share with friends, and even as his face steamed with embarrassment, he couldn't help but grin at the memory of it all.

The Hogwarts' Express rumbled over some uneven rail, and Rory turned to look outside as rain poured over the typically picturesque summer countryside. His ears felt fuzzy at the staticky sound of rain droplets hitting the top of the train roared in the background of their conversation. Dribbles of it ran down the window fast as it could, turning into straight streaming shots as the Hogwarts' Express zipped along the railway.

Summer at The Burrow had been nearly as amazing as Rory had always pictured it to be, with its sprawling fields and overwhelming orchard... It felt like he'd hallucinated a summer right out of a storybook. He briefly remembered the feeling of sun peeking through the leaves of the orchard in patches, eyes closed against the warmth grazing against him. Admittedly, some of his most favorite moments had been when he was by himself, sitting quietly to listen to the wind brush against the trees, or the grass, or- well, anything, really.

The Burrow felt full of life, warm and bustling all the time. There was always someone giving a long-winded, passionate explanation of what they'd busied their day with. Around every corner was something magical, literally and figuratively, just waiting for Rory to find it.

There was, of course, that little snag in the whole plan that neither of the twins seemed as concerned about as Rory had been. During summertime, the Weasley house was the place to be. Not only were their various grown children in and out all the time, at some point even Harry Potter was sleeping in Ron's room for most of the holiday. Apparently, nobody had really thought about where Rory was going to sleep until Mrs. Weasley had brought it up that first night, over dinner.

"So he'll have to sleep in your room," she huffed, shrugging her shoulders as she scooped up a bite off her plate. "There's no other beds until- Well, until I don't know when!"

"That's fine," Fred shrugged nonchalantly, "We'll sleep top and tail, or something."

"Yeah he can sleep in my bed," George offered, nodding to Rory encouragingly. "It'll be fine, Mum. Just let him stay."