Ron looked at his sleeping sister, her head on his chest. The fireplace in the common room was giving off just the perfect amount of heat. It had lulled Ginny to sleep rather quickly, leaving himself, Harry and Hermione to discuss about how Sirius was doing when they couldn't visit him. Ron frequently checked to make sure his Ginny was still asleep. He knew that if she found out about their hiding Sirius, she would tell Dumbledore because of her fear of him. Things had been bad last year, her paranoia of him was ten times worse, mostly because she feared for Harry, but also because she was afraid that he would kill anyone who got in his way. They still had yet to break the news about his relations to Harry, but they had told her he wasn't after Harry. Not to kill him, anyway.
"You can't keep Snuffles waiting much longer," Hermione was saying. "One can only live on rats for so long."
"Well, what do you want me to do?" Harry snapped, exasperated.
"Your cloak, Harry?" Hermione retorted without skipping a beat.
"Oh, and what do you want me to do with it, Hermione? Snape blocked the," his voice lowered, "One-eyed witch passage."
"C'mon, mate," Ron insisted, "You're Harry Potter! You fought off You-Know-Who at eleven. Tom Riddle at twelve."
"I'm aware of both near-death experiences," Harry barked, then flinched, looking back to Ginny, who didn't move. He visibly relaxed.
"What Ronald is trying to say is "Figure out a way, Harry."," Hermione translated, looking rather weary and tired.
"'Mione, why don't you go to bed," Ron suggested, giving her a sympathetic look.
"I think I shall." She stood up stiffly and turned on her heel. "Harry, you and Ron need to figure out a way to get to Snuffles. Good night," were her final words before she climbed quietly up the stairs, trying not to wake anyone up.
"We could use the Whomping Willow passage to the Shrieking Shack," Ron suggested.
"I don't remember the incantation Lupin used to freeze it."
"Harry," Ron started, "Even I remember it. Immobulus."
"Right." Harry grimaced. "Shall we go tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Ron agreed absent-mindedly. He was staring at his sister.
"G'Night, Ron."
"Night," Ron replied without looking up.
When Harry left Ron started to explain to his sister the situation, deciding it was the best time, seeing as she wouldn't recall it the next morning.
"Gin." He ruffled her long red hair, "Harry is hiding Sirius. Because, Sirius is his godfather. I don't know how, well I do know, but Black didn't betray his parents to You-Know-Who, Scabbers did. Scabbers, thought, wasn't really Scabbers. He's called Peter Pettigrew." Ginny turned over restlessly, as though her brother's words were penetrating her sleep. "The only reason I, we, didn't tell you sooner are because we were worried you would freak out. And I didn't want to scare you. I always hated it when you were scared, Gin. When you would cry when we were younger, it always had some effect on me. I would cry to, but I would always hide it because I'm supposed to be the big brother and you're supposed to be the little sister, the one who needed protection." Ron paused to make sure no one had entered the common room, than palmed his forehead when he remembered it was two a.m., no one in their right mind would come in at two a.m. it was obvious. "It may have bothered Fred a bit, maybe even George if the bout was bad, but it always got me, like we were connected somehow." Just then Sir Nicholas floated in.
"Good evening-er, morning, Sir Nicholas," Ron greeted.
"Ah, to you as well," Sir Nicholas returned, "Have you seen the Bloody Barron? I'm afraid Peeves is creating such a ruckus that even Dumbledore is getting agitated."
"Sorry, haven't seen him. If you ask the Fat Friar you might get somewhere."
"Thank you, Ronald. I shall do just that." He said before floating away.
"Good luck," Ron called softly after him, then turned back to Ginny, who had been lying peaceful once again, her breathing evening out. "Bill and Charlie used to hate it when you cried, it made them feel like it was going to tear the family apart, they said. Percy couldn't care less, he was more interested in his books. But I was constantly the person that you came to. When Fred and George changed your pillow into a monster with teeth, now I'm not sure you remember that, you were only six, but you came running to me. Mum found out when she and Dad and the people a few miles over heard, she barged into my room, you were in my arms, crying. She let you sleep with me that night. Fred and George were grounded for a month, not to mention a major scolding by Dad, followed by yelling so loud that I'm surprised Percy didn't wake. The yelling, of course, was Mum. Dad could never yell that shrill. Bill and Charlie were there, trying to comfort you, but you still clung to me. You wouldn't let Bill rock you, or let Charlie sing to you. It was me. Not even Mum. Me."
Ron sighed and grabbed one of the gold and scarlet blankets that seemed to little the common room, covering Ginny with it as he slunk down so he could get comfortable enough to sleep.
He planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Good night, Gin. I love you." He whispered.
"I love you, too, Ron." She whispered back just before Ron fell asleep with a smile on his face.