Of Scrolls and Sleeping

Chapter Four: He Said

Ron stared contentedly at the deep red canopy covering his four-poster bed. He had tried to sleep, he honestly had, but he just couldn't stop thinking about her. The soft press of her slender arms around him, the faint tickle of her warm breath on his neck, those were the first things he had sensed while still half asleep. When he had opened his eyes and found her face mere inches away it had taken his breath away. He remembered the feeling of her heart beating against the crook of his right arm wrapped around her back and the way her eyes had been moving rapidly beneath their lids. And her lips, he had gazed at her lips for what seemed like an eternity, memorizing their curves and lines, and the color! They were almost as red as the pillow their heads had rested upon. Ron shook his head slightly and sat up. Pillow, he thought, where did that pillow come from? They had fallen asleep at the table while poring over those dusty scrolls, come to think of it, what had happened to the scrolls? His eyes widened in shock, Harry and or Ginny must have placed the pillow there and put away the scrolls and then left them both there when they went to bed. He felt rather embarrassed at the thought of Harry and Ginny witnessing how he and Hermione had ended up in their sleep and hoped they hadn't done 'anything else' while asleep. Ron sighed at that.

"Too late now," he whispered ruefully to himself.

Ron swung his legs off the bed and sat for a moment staring at Harry's empty made up bed. He had not heard him leave and having not slept he would have noticed any movement in the room. Seamus, Neville and Dean were still sleeping. He slipped on his slippers and climbed down the steps into the common room. It looked empty from where he stood. The fire had been relit and burned quite brightly, he saw the pillow sitting on the table. Ron decided he wanted to take the pillow as a memento. He went to go pick it up and held it to his face breathing in, it smelled like her, like new books and sweet earth. As he lowered the pillow from his face he spotted Harry sprawled in the armchair by the stairs to the girls' dormitory. He wondered for a second how he and Hermione had missed seeing him and then he realized that they wouldn't have seen anything but each other last night even if it had hit them square in the face. He blushed slightly at the memory of her eyes watching his every movement until that ruddy wall had gotten in the way. He walked over to where Harry was sleeping and nudged his shoulder to wake him.

"Harry, what are you doing down here?" he asked. Harry shifted blearily his eyes fluttering and searching sightlessly.

"Waiting for Ginny, have to talk to Ginny, have to explain," he blurted, still struggling with consciousness.

"What do you have to tell Ginny, what happened Harry?" Ron asked in concern, bending over slightly to be closer to level with him.

Harry's eyes snapped fully alert and he grasped the arms of the chair he was now slumped squarely in. As if on cue, Seamus and Dean came down the stairs closely followed by Neville. Both Harry's and Ron's heads snapped to look at them. Seamus and Dean walked over to a table at the far end of the common room, hardy noticing Harry and Ron except to say hello as they passed, both obviously too preoccupied to notice Ron in his pajamas and Harry's sleep crumpled robes. But Neville stopped and looked at them.

"Is everything ok?" he inquired nervously. He knew when they were upset about something it usually involved extreme danger and heroic feats in planning, and it was simply too early, and not even before breakfast.

"Fine," Harry and Ron said in unison. "It's nothing serious," Harry continued reassuringly.

"Oh good," Neville exhaled, relieved, "I'll see you later, I'm meeting Luna before breakfast." He smiled and walked away and out of the common room.

"Why don't we go up to the dormitory and talk about this," Harry offered "from the size of that," he pointed at a large love bite on Ron's neck, just above his collar, "you have a story of your own." He smirked. Ron's face went beet red.

"That's probably best," Ron squeaked out, and turned to head upstairs.

Harry got up, grabbed his bag and followed him up the stairs. Halfway to the room Harry noticed the pillow clutched in Ron's right hand and grinned.

"Hey Ron, what's with the pillow?" Harry poked at him with the question. Ron whirled on the stairs, thrusting the fist holding the pillow between them like a dagger. He looked at Harry's grin and instantly knew he had been the one to put it there last night.

"You should know, you gave it to us," Ron shot back. "And thanks, I'm sure our necks would have hurt much worse without it." Ron jabbed Harry with the pillow and turned to continue upstairs. They walked into the empty room and went to sit on their beds. Ron placed the pillow up on his other pillows at the head of his bead and turned to look at Harry who had flopped back on his bed after dropping his bag on the floor and was staring up at his canopy anxiously.

"So, ah, what happened?" Ron tried to restart the conversation. "What's so important that you stayed all night down there to catch Ginny when she came down and tell her?" Ron asked, completely puzzled. Harry sighed.

"She kissed me, Ron," he said flatly and then sat up to look at him. "She kissed me and ran away, I did nothing and she was gone." Harry's head dropped to stare at his open hands hanging in his lap. Ron could see how deflated he was.

"Why didn't you Harry?" he cautiously asked. He really didn't want to have to punch his best friend, but if he'd hurt his sister...

"I don't know!" Harry moaned, his hands balled up and beat the bed on either side of him as he slammed back down on to his back. "God knows I wanted to," he said as he brought a forearm up to rest across his forehead. He sighed and his arm slid away from his face as he pulled himself upright again.

"I guess I wasn't fast enough, too groggy from all those words I'd been reading" he sighed.

"But Harry, that's not the end of the world, she'll understand. Honestly, all you need to do is tell her what happened." Ron reassured him, relieved that his closest friend had not just broken his sister's heart.

"I know, I just can't stand to think about what she'll be going through until I get the chance to. I know she's upset, she wouldn't have run off like that unless she was on the brink of tears, but then if she hadn't run off it wouldn't be an issue. But if I'd just been faster and held onto her everything would be fine right now!"

Ron jumped up unnoticed during his tirade and stood over him.

"Slow down, mate!" he exclaimed, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, to quell the flow of Harry's self deprecation. "I'm sure Ginny will think of a way for you to make it up to her."

"Oh, I hadn't thought about it that way," Harry said slyly, an unmistakable twinkle in his eye.

"Hey that's my sister you're thinking about there," Ron admonished him.

"I know, and a fine witch," Harry answered seriously.

"Harry, I want you to know there's no one in the world I'd rather her be with than you," Ron stated earnestly looking him in the eye. Harry nodded up at him and said, "Thanks, Ron." Ron swallowed hard and turned away.

"Well, we should get dressed and head to breakfast." Ron awkwardly broke the heavy mood.

"Ron, you might want to do something about that 'bruise' on your neck." Harry smirked at him.

"Oh sod off, you git," Ron fired back, grinning. "I think I'll wear it with pride, after all I earned it."

"How did that go, anyway," Harry asked, honestly interested. "It certainly looks like it went well, but I suppose she could have been trying to strangle you." Ron looked quite far away for a moment. "It was brilliant," he told Harry distantly. They continued getting ready, lost in their thoughts and then headed to the Great Hall for Breakfast.