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It was silent in the hospital wing. This was probably the only place in the castle were it could ever be silent even though people were around. Grey light poured through the high windows, shining down on a boy with red hair, strapping shoulders and freckles that made him look younger than he actually was. He was sitting in a chair next to a bed, with his chin in his hand and a distant gaze, as if he had been there a while.

Suddenly Ron felt a hand on his shoulder. He froze, but it was Harry's voice he heard.

'Any change?' he asked, brows furrowed worriedly.

Ron shook his head. 'Nothing.'

Harry took the chair opposite him. 'This can't be good. It's almost six hours now. She should at least have woken up, shouldn't she?'

'I don't know.' Ron rubbed his eyes. Strange how one could become tired just by waiting.

'Did you – I mean, what happened exactly?'

Ron sighed. 'I told you.'

'I know.'

'We had a fight. She said I was a "soft big baby" and ran off. And merely an hour later I found her in the Greenhouse, on the ground, with Lovage all around her.' There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. 'Madam Pomfrey says she might have an overdose and that it is best she stays asleep while her body cleans itself of it.'

'This is nothing like Hermione', Harry said. 'I mean, being clumsy with plants and all. She's never clumsy.'

'No.'

'Where – where were you two fighting over?' Harry asked, a little hesitant.

Ron looked at him sharply. He was about to snap something, but seemed to change his mind. 'Everything and nothing, really. It started out as just arguing and next thing I knew we were yelling.' That wasn't the entire truth, but he'd be damned if he told his bedroom problems to his best mate.

'Sucks', found Harry.

'Yes, well…' Ron yawned.

'Maybe you should go to bed?' Harry suggested.

'What if she wakes up?'

'I'll be here.'

Ron shook his head. 'I want to be here.'

'But – '

'Drop it.'

Harry held his hands up in the air. 'Fine', he mumbled.

Ron felt slightly guilty for snapping, but he couldn't help himself. Harry never fought with Hermione. Not since the war was over and they had come back to the castle to finish their education. It was irrational, but Ron still felt jealous of him, of the easy way he could live next to Hermione.

'Do you think she can hear us?' Harry asked, disrupting his train of thoughts.

'I don't think so, she would have woken up by now if she could.' At least, that was what Ron kept telling himself.

'She's got to at least sense we're here, no?'

'I reckon', Ron answered, more to shut Harry up than something else. He looked at Hermione's relaxed face. A few hours ago she had moaned and her expression had twisted in pain, but now she looked peaceful and – asleep, really. 'I think I should go to bed, after all.' Ron stood up. 'I don't think she's going to wake up any time soon.'

Harry nodded and scooted his chair closer to Hermione. 'I'll stay. You get some rest.'

'I'll be back in a couple of hours.'

'Okay.'

'Okay.'

Ron walked away. He closed the door of the hospital wing, with a feeling of vexation he didn't understand.