Harry/Ron implied. About 212 words.
Summer. Harry Potter was starving again, hunger-sculpted arms drawn up over his head, grass sticking to his back.
"You should eat." The shadow blocking the sun spoke and when Harry opened his eyes he was confronted with Ron's silhouette, long, looming. He'd been saying that all summer. In fact, Harry was convinced that was all he'd been saying. Lips forming a tight line, Harry rolled onto his side.
"You can't just stop eating!" Ron's concern was annoying. Harry planned with determination to make all of the holes in his life match.
He could hear Ron's feet shift against the ground, a dry swish. He could feel Ron's fingers brush blades of grass from his back and he shivered despite the heat.
"Mum's worried..." Harry refused to be deterred by the Molly Plea, and yanked his shoulder forward so that the sweatiness of Ron's hands slipped off of him. Stillness followed and he thought Ron had left without making a sound. But a slapping cracked the silence as the heels of Ron's palms collided sharply with Harry's skin.
"Sirius wasn't the only person who ever loved you!"
But before Harry could turn, the coolness of Ron's shadow had been replaced by the blotted white glare of the sun in Harry's eyes.