Harry reached up and gently stroked Ron's cheek. "Of course it's real, Ron," he said, leaning up to brush a kiss against Ron's lips. "I love you. And if that was your way of asking me to be your boyfriend, I accept." He knew he was grinning like crazy, but he couldn't help it. He hadn't felt this happy in a very long time, and it was all due to Ron. In fact, if he looked back on the last eight years of his life, the number of happy moments that were due to Ron far outnumbered pretty much everything else.
"I think I've loved you since the train, when you tried to turn Scabbers yellow," he admitted, blushing a little and moving more securely into Ron's arms. "But...but I think I'd like to go slow. I've...I've never...you know." His face turned redder. "Had sex," he whispered, hiding his face in Ron's chest. He didn't know if he could handle the pity or amusement or both that might be on Ron's face.