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The fire crackled low, casting warm shadows across the quiet Gryffindor common room. Snow drifted silently outside, but inside, Harry and Ron were focused on something entirely their own. On the table lay tiny bottles of magical ink and the rune stencils—Othala, Ehwaz, Algiz—symbols of heritage, loyalty, protection.
Ron rolled up his sleeve, eyeing the first rune. “You really think Mum and Dad would approve of this?”
Harry tapped the stencil in place. “They’d probably try to stop me first,” he said, smiling.
If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
Ron winced as he held the quill. “I suppose if anyone understands me, it’s you.”
And if you were drowned at sea
I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
Harry traced the first line on his arm, careful and steady. “I’ve got you, brother-er-er…”
I've got you brother-er-er
I've got you brother-er-er
I've got you brother-er-er
Ron followed, wincing slightly as the magical ink settled into his skin. “Feels… permanent,” he muttered, but there was a soft pride in his voice.
Oh brother, we'll go deeper than the ink
Beneath the skin of our tattoos
Harry nodded, brushing a stray mark from Ron’s arm. Though we don't share the same blood
Ron smirked, his usual humor slipping in. “But I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.”
You're my brother and I love you, that's the truth
When they leaned back, arms side by side, the runes glimmered faintly in the firelight, magical ink catching every flicker. In that quiet, snowy night, the lyrics and the symbols carried a promise neither words nor magic alone could ever capture: loyalty, protection, and unbreakable brotherhood.