Ron wasn't exactly sure what it was that had woken him up, but he knew exactly what was keeping him up. His damn little twink (yes, he called Harry a twink, he was small, he was hairless, he was young, and he was gay, it was all the incentive Ron needed) of a friend was up and gazing at himself in the mirror.

"Good God Harry, what the bloody hell are you doing up?" Ron grumbled, sitting up.

"I couldn't sleep," Harry replied, "I had other… things on my mind."

"Please don't tell me you were thinking of him again or I might have to kill myself." Harry's eyes widened, the dumb fuck took Ron way too seriously sometimes.

"I was joking," Ron grumbled. Harry looked only a little less panicked. Ron stared at him for a moment. "You were thinking about him," he accused.

Harry's blush instantly gave him away.

"Well sorry, but it's hard not too, he's just so…" Ron held his hand up, stopping Harry in mid sentence.

"Please, I do not want another rant on the blueness of his eyes, the way his hair falls softly on his head, his robes swishing poetically behind him as he walks." Harry blushed again.

"Ron, can I ask you something?"

"Depends, what?"

"Am I good looking?" Ron was silent for a moment.

"You're asking me?" Harry nodded, his eyes wide and innocent as if he could see nothing wrong with that picture.

"Well I dunno," Ron said, "I'm not gay, how am I supposed to know?"

"I'm not asking you if you're gay, I'm only asking if you would say, that I, in general, as a man, am good looking?"

"Well, um, I guess so," Ron said, scratching his head, "I mean, you're not ugly, and lots of girls seem to like you, and some guys."

"Yeah, but do you think that he thinks I'm good looking?"

"Oh lord, back to him again?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm just wondering. Because he never really looks at me much, or talks to me."

"Well you did put his entire family in jail and lock him out of his fortune."

"Not me personally!" Harry argued.

"Yeah, same difference."

"Well you're no help," Harry grumbled.

"That's because it's three o'clock in the fucking morning, do you really think three in the morning is the appropriate time to be discussing this?"

"No, well, I guess not," Harry admitted.

"Exactly my point, ask me again in the morning if you want to, or even better, ask Hermione. But me, I'm going to bed, and you should too." Ron lay back down pulling his blankets up to his neck.

"But…" Harry was about to say something when Ron interrupted him.

"Twink. You. Bed. Now." He ordered.

"That's what he said," Harry mumbled under his breath.

"Fuck you," Ron grumbled, rolling over.

"I thought you said you weren't gay."

"Harry if you plan on waking up tomorrow I suggest you shut up." Harry was quiet, Ron sighed and settled into his bed again.

"I'm sorry, by the way," Harry said from the next bed over. Damn, that boy made it so hard for Ron to be mad at him. Oh well, he'd be sure to dump a glass of Pumpkin juice on his head tomorrow. He'd probably get a beating from Hermione for it, but it'd make him feel better. And he'd probably get detention, which might make him loose more sleep. Damn, these decisions were so hard. Why couldn't Harry just not be in love with a guy who'd probably never return it? It'd make Harry's life so much easier, and Ron's sleep schedule would return to normal. Fuck it, he was dumping the pumpkin juice on Harry's head. And he totally deserved every drop of it for waking Ron up at 3am, because nobody wakes Ron up at 3am, nobody.