A/N: Thank you to BloomingViolets for reviewing. I know Ron as a healer seems a bit odd... but I liked it so I'm running with it lol. Anyway, here is chapter three... but I'd like to point out that this story is on alert for 6 people, and it has only recieved 3 reviews... come on people, don't make me beg.

Chapter 3: Can't Close My Eyes

"Harry?"

"What?"

Hermione scowled slightly and settled back into the couch. "Well never mind then," she huffed.

Harry groaned and sprawled out across Hermione's couch. There had been a lot of social interaction throughout the day, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was in a completely foul mood because of it. He had enjoyed the evening with the Weasley's very much, but it was a lot more effort to be sociable than it used to be.

"I'm sorry Hermione. What is it?"

Hermione turned to face Harry, curling her legs up on her armchair so she could adjust her view. Harry really looked rather pathetic, flayed out dramatically across the sofa, and she couldn't help but smile.

"We really need to get out more."

Harry rolled over and buried his head into the cushions and muttered something. Hermione didn't bother to ask.

"Seriously though Harry, I wanted to ask you something a bit… personal."

Harry turned his head so that he could at least speak coherently, but he couldn't be bothered to actually sit up.

"Hermione," he said dryly, "Since when do we need to be careful about asking each other personal questions?"

"Never," Hermione answered, "but I figured that we should at least practice some tact. Not that you or Ron ever do, but I figured I'd try to maintain some semblance of normalcy between our relationships."

Harry snorted, and this time he did sit up. "One: once Ron actually says anything personal it's such a relief that he actually got it out that tact is the last thing I'm ever worried about. Two: does this have anything whatsoever to do with what you wanted to ask me? Because I'm tired and want to go to bed, so if you're going to ask me something, then ask."

Hermione smirked and briefly considered dragging this out further, but decided to have mercy on Harry. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well even if he and Ron both replied with a casual "yeah, fine," whenever she or Ginny asked if they had slept ok.

"I was just wondering if you and Ginny had talked at all. About the two of you."

Harry tensed. "There's nothing to talk about," he stated flatly.

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione said, raising her eyebrows.

Harry kept his eyes determinedly at Hermione's shoulder—a ridiculous tactic since he knew Hermione could read him like one of her books, but he kept his eyes from hers anyway.

"Look Hermione, there is nothing to talk about. She was 16 years old when we went out, and now she's nearly 19! That's a huge difference. Why on earth should I suspect she's still interested after more than two years? We had a thing once, and that's the end of it. She's my friend, and my best mate's little sister, nothing more."

Harry finished and sat rather proudly perched on the couch. He'd wanted and needed to say that for a long time now. All the assumptions everyone made about him and Ginny were preposterous. Why in the world would anyone think she had waited around for him? Who ever came up with that?

"Horse shit."

Harry nearly fell off the couch. Did Hermione just swear? Hermione simply didn't swear. Maybe very mildly in very extreme circumstance, but this was the same girl he had witnessed take a sectumsempra hex to the shoulder and merely respond with an "Oh bugger."

"So much for tact," he replied dryly, "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Hermione looked positively disgusted with him and Harry didn't have the slightest clue why.

"Never mind tact. Harry, how do you feel about Ginny. And I want you to answer that question for me without an excuse behind everything you say."

Harry stared at her for a moment, not entirely sure what that was supposed to mean. He couldn't just lie to Hermione though; that would be asking for some pretty strong hexes, and he knew first hand that Hermione knew some good ones. He swallowed and kept his gaze down.

"I don't see what I feel about her has to do with anything."

"Of course you don't. You never see what your feelings have to do with anything."

Again, Harry wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but he didn't really want to think about it now. Hermione was a determined little bugger when she wanted to be and he could easily recognize her tone.

"I still feel something for her," he admitted reluctantly, "but…"

"No buts Harry," Hermione cut him off, "no excuses. All I wanted to know was whether or not you felt something for her."

"Well I do."

"Well you should tell her."

"No."

"And why ever not?"

"Because I said so."

"You're incredibly thick."

"Yep."

"And you really aren't as noble as you'd like to think."

"I never said I was."

"This conversation just got completely ridiculous."

"I think it's been completely ridiculous, thank you very much."

"Harry James Potter, you are impossible."

"So I've been told."

Hermione sighed and Harry smirked. They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione stood up and began to pull Harry off of the couch.

"Come on, you need to get some sleep. Tell my roommate to get herself back over here and that sibling bonding time is over. Ron needs his rest just as much as you do."

Harry's smirk broke into a grin and Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't think you've won Harry. You can't ignore her forever."

"Wait a minute, I don't ignore her!" Harry replied, genuinely surprised at the accusation.

Hermione gave him a dubious look, and when she realized he was serious, she let out a long sigh.

"Oh Harry. The air is so thick with nervous tension when you two are in the same room alone it's almost unbearable. If it's all of us, then it's not a problem, but if I walk into a room where the two of you are sitting, it's suffocating."

"Hermione…" Harry's voice suddenly sounded very tired, and Hermione kept her mouth shut. "Please… I don't want to do this now."

Hermione nodded and gave him a quick hug. He smiled at her and let himself out, his mind buzzing with thoughts of Ginny and their non-verbal relationship. That's essentially all it was these days, unless they were with Hermione and Ron.

Stop thinking about it, he told himself, she deserves someone much less dysfunctional.

"Night Harry."

Harry jumped at the sound of Ginny's voice. She gave him a confused look and he realized he was staring at her awkwardly as she went to turn the handle of her door.

"Um, everything alright?"

Harry shook himself and laughed. "Yeah, sorry. Night Gin."

Ginny rolled her eyes and entered her flat, deciding that tonight was not the night to try and figure out the enigma that was Harry Potter.

Locking the door behind her, Ginny headed to the couch and flopped down next to Hermione.

"Tea?" she said to Hermione with a pleading look.

Hermione just smirked and flicked her wand lazily as a kettle appeared out of thin air.

"Love you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed at Ginny. She was now the second person to pathetically sprawl out across her couch in the last 15 minutes.

"Rough night?" Hermione teased and Ginny groaned in response.

"I just spent the last hour trying to explain to Ron what's going on with Fred and George. Honestly, how did he ever get into the healer program?"

"Hey now," Hermione huffed, "He can be quite brilliant when he tries." She paused as her brow creased in thought, "Well, sometimes anyway. It's actually practical things that he's really good at. He's rubbish at potions because it's all theory, but healing is all very hands on and practical— seems to be his strength."

Ginny just rolled her eyes and pulled herself up to pour some tea.

"Well still," she said, after Hermione refused Ginny's offer of tea, "You try explaining to Ron Weasley that his twin brothers are trying to cope with their lives not being in tandem for once. You would have thought I was trying to explain to him how muggle ecklectricity works." She sighed and once again flopped backwards into the couch. "I'd like to know what it's like to be an only child for once."

Hermione snorted and shook her head at her roommate.

"It's horribly dull and lonely. Don't get me wrong, my parents are great, but my house is going to be stocked full of kids."

Ginny arched an eyebrow and tilted her head in surprise. "Really?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. After visiting your house for the first time all those summers ago, I knew I wanted my house to be just like it."

Ginny shrugged and took a long sip of tea before looking back at Hermione with the infamous Weasley glint of mischief in her eyes.

"Ron wants a house full of kids too," she said silkily.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to look at Ginny who was grinning cheekily.

"Oh does he now?"

Ginny nodded and Hermione shook her head.

"And why, Ginerva, would I care what kind of family Ron wants?"

Ginny just shrugged and Hermione laughed, shoving Ginny's shoulder in mock indignation.

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Harry groaned and sat up in his bed. It was positively unnerving that he couldn't sleep in a bed. He tried not to think about how odd it was, but he couldn't help it. Every time he crawled into bed, he'd just end up starring at the ceiling for hours. He had tryouts in a few days, and he knew he would need his rest.

His conversation with Hermione probably wasn't helping matters any. He was fine around Ginny as long as he didn't have to think about how pretty she was, or how her boldness was amazingly attractive, or how she constantly made efforts to help the trio without being obnoxious about it, or how she teased Ron in a way only a sibling could, or how she made his stomach drop when she told a funny story, or how his heart leapt into his throat whenever she flicked her hair over her shoulder, or how her whole face lit up when she talked about quiditch, or… uhg! This certainly wasn't helping.

With another groan, Harry flung his pillow and duvet to the floor and crawled down after them. He settled himself down on the carpet and closed his eyes when a gut wrenching scream filled his ears.

Ron.

Everything about Harry transformed into an instinctual creature. He shot out of his make shift bed and groped for his glasses, his wand already in hand. None of them admitted it openly, but the trio still slept with their wands.

He took off down the short hallway towards Ron's room, forcing himself not to blow the door off its hinges.

When he burst through Ron's doorway, he immediately flung his wand out, prepared to strike. The sight before him however, was not what he expected.

Ron was clutching the footboard of his bed in an attempt to stand up, his entire body shaking and his jaw clenched tightly. Ron obviously slept on the floor as well, but Harry wasn't concerned with that at the moment. Ron grit his teeth and crouched low, a suppressed scream making its way through his clenched jaw like a growl.

"Ron?" Harry asked, unsure whether or not to put his wand away. "Ron, what's wrong?"

Ron's head snapped up to look at Harry, his face contorted in pain.

"Curse," was all Ron managed to get out before he doubled over again.

Harry looked at his friend, dumbfounded, before he remembered about the curse Ron had told him Macnair had hit him with. Something about night torture or… something; Harry couldn't quite remember the details. Shaking himself back to the present Harry looked frantically around the room, clueless as to what was even happening to Ron.

Ron was gripping the footboard so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He was once again muffling a scream into his tightly closed mouth and Harry knew he was going to panic if he didn't think of a way to help his friend soon. This was Hermione's field, not his.

Without knowing what else to do, Harry cast a silencing charm on Ron's room and Ron instantly let out a howling wail of pain.

Harry winced, unsure if touching Ron to help him up was a good idea.

"Ron," he said, trying to stay calm, "You've got to try to talk to me. Tell me what to do."

Ron took a gulp of air, and looked up at Harry, his eyes pricked with unshed tears. He pulled himself up and Harry was instantly at his side, helping him sit down on the bed.

Ron curled up on his side, trembling from head to foot. Harry just watched helplessly as the pain seemed to subside for the moment.

"I can't close my eyes," Ron said shakily.

"What?"

"I… can't… close…" Ron paused and tried to steady his breathing. "Turn around," he said suddenly, and Harry gave him a quizzical look.

Ron looked pleadingly at Harry and so the dark haired boy did as he was asked and turned away from Ron who, Harry realized, was now being sick in the wastebasket by Ron's bed.

When Harry could tell he had finished, he turned around to face Ron again, who was once again curled up and shaking, concentrating very hard on breathing in and out.

Harry took a tentative step towards his friend, his heart thudding in his ears. He still had no idea what to do.

Ron suddenly gripped the sheets and howled in anguish again, squeezing his eyes shut against the shockwaves of pain. He thrashed violently and his eyes flew open. He desperately looked around the room, his eyes seeking Harry's.

"Don't let me close them!" he pleaded before writhing in agony again, his eyes tearing up with the desire to shut out the pain.

Harry looked around wildly, trying to come up with something, anything.

"I'm going to get Hermione."

Ron's arm instantly lashed out at Harry as he dug his fingers into his best friend's arm, biting his lip in torment.

"Ron, I don't know what else to do!" Harry explained, his voice rising with panic.

"Just," Ron gasped, releasing his grip on Harry only to pull his hands through his wild mass of red hair. "Not like this," he managed to gasp out.

Harry bit his lip and sat down next to Ron, understanding what he meant. Yes, Hermione had seen Ron tortured, seen him in excruciating pain, but this was different. It was different to be facing pain and torture at someone else's hands than it was to writhe around on your bed in tearful agony. Ron didn't want Hermione to see him like this, and Harry understood that. He knew Ron didn't even want Harry seeing him like this, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Another shock of pain ran through Ron's body and he instinctively slid his eyes closed, only to immediately begin thrashing wildly before releasing a scream of terror, rather than pain.

Harry tensed before launching at Ron, pinning his arms at his sides.

"Ron! Open your eyes Ron! It's me! Look at me damnit!"

Ron's eyes snapped open and he desperately filled his lungs with air. Harry didn't move, continuing to pin Ron's arms down and look directly at Ron. Hot tears made their way down Ron's face and Harry knew Ron wouldn't be able to look directly at him for days after this. Even now, Ron tried to look away as his body tensed under Harry's firm hold and more tears made their way down his fevered cheeks.

"Ron," Harry said firmly, "Look at me Ron. You've got to look at me."

Ron complied, concentrating on Harry's eyes for as long as he could before the pain intensified and he tried to squirm from Harry's lock on him.

"Fight it Ron," Harry commanded, his voice much stronger than he felt. He had know idea why Ron had been so desperate for Harry not to let him close his eyes, but Harry knew that he had to do it somehow. If this is what it took, so be it.

"Come on Ron!" Harry bellowed, his voice breaking slightly at the look of torment on his best friend's features. Ron was desperately trying to break away in an attempt to ease the pain shooting through him.

"I can't let you go Ron, you… you said you couldn't close your eyes. Keep looking at me. Damnit Ron! Keep looking at me!"

Ron obeyed, growling and howling in pain in the process as Harry's last resolve broke and he barely kept his own tears from falling. He had thought this was over. He was haunted by the faces of his friends being tormented every night in his nightmares but now it felt like he was doing the tormenting.

"Harry," Ron choked out as the pain dulled for the moment, "I meant it, don't let me close my eyes."

"I won't." Harry promised, just before Ron began to writhe in pain again.

Harry had no idea how long he wrestled with Ron. Ron was at least 5 inches taller than Harry and just as strong, so it was only by sheer willpower that Harry managed to keep pinning the red head down, forcing him to look at Harry. Even when Ron blinked he would shudder and Harry had to wonder what it was that was making him react like this.

He kept his promise. He never let Ron keep his eyes closed for long. It wasn't until the first rays of sunlight broke through the curtain of the bedroom window that Ron's breathing became normal, and he gradually relaxed in Harry's vice-like grip.

"Ron?" Harry said tentatively; he wasn't sure whether he could let go yet or not.

Ron's glassy eyes seemed to really focus on Harry for once, and he nodded his head slowly. Harry released his grip, wincing at the finger shaped bruises he left behind.

The two friends sat in awkward silence for a long time, sitting side by side on the edge of Ron's bed. Ron finally stopped panting after a few minutes and peeled his sweat soaked shirt over his head and ran a hand shakily through his hair.

"This isn't good," Harry finally voiced.

"No kidding," Ron replied, swallowing hard.

"What the hell was happening? Why couldn't you close your eyes?"

Ron's face visibly paled and Harry thought for a moment his friend was going to be sick again. Ron shook himself and shuddered involuntarily.

"Images… I can't… every time I closed my eyes it's all I could see."

Ron was shaking once again and he kept his head in his hands, willing the churning in his stomach to stop. Harry looked at him, slightly confused.

"Images? Nightmares are nothing new to us Ron. I mean, I know better than most just how bad…"

"No! Not like this Harry. This is nothing like a nightmare. It's so real I can smell it. I can feel it. I just… it was so… not even in my nightmares have… I mean…"

"Whoa, whoa, ok. You don't have to explain," Harry said, startled at Ron's reaction. Just talking about it made Ron look absolutely frazzled.

Ron took a deep breath and nodded.

"What are we gonna do Ron? What is it?"

Ron sighed and flopped backwards onto his back.

"The insomnioto curse I told you I was hit with… that was it. I…" Ron closed his eyes tentatively before letting out a sigh, "…I looked into them a bit more. It's a really dark curse. I fall asleep, and then get woken up to searing pain and… and those images every time I close my eyes."

Harry blinked and twisted around to face Ron properly. Seeing his confused expression Ron began to explain further.

"It's really twisted. The pain is to try and force you to close your eyes. That's just a natural reaction to pain; close your eyes to it and try to sleep it off… not that I could have slept that off mind you, but you get the idea. It starts when you try to sleep at night, and it'll stop once dawn rolls around."

"Wait… so this will just happen randomly for the rest of your life?"

Ron bit his lip and shook his head slowly.

"It'll happen every night until I find away to throw it off. Bit like the imperius really. You get better with practice, but the stronger the curse, the harder it is to shake. Macnair is no joke mate… I couldn't even think about trying to throw it off."

Ron's words hung in the air as the full implication of the curse settled on Harry. His best mate couldn't sleep. Not, 'his best mate couldn't sleep without suffering.' It simply wasn't possible; the curse made it so the victim physically could not sleep.

"Well," Harry said calmly, "We'll just have to flip the schedule up a bit, right? Sleep in the day. We can go to bed just before dawn so you can practice fighting it off for a bit and eventually you'll be able to do it."

Ron again shook his head slowly.

"Harry… it… it won't work like that. People have tried that. The curse just fluctuates to your sleeping pattern. It's like I said, it's really dark stuff—very crafty, complicated, and above all else: cruel. Besides, I can't just sleep all day. I start Healer training soon."

Harry sat, his back to Ron, in silence. He was wracking his brain for solutions but he wasn't finding any. Had it not been for the fact that they had been in similar situations before, Harry and Ron would both be in a state of panic. As it was, they were simply immune to shock now. Going through the things they had gone through, one simply had to learn to cope.

That didn't make it any easier though. The situation was serious and they both knew it. Harry dropped his head into his hands and shook his head.

"Merlin Ron, I'm so sorry. This is all…"

"Don't! Harry James Potter I swear if you say this is your fault I will hex you into next week. This isn't about you, got it?"

Harry clamped his mouth shut and nodded. Ron and Hermione had at long last found the key to making Harry realize that he didn't need to take the blame for every bad thing that ever happened. They had informed him rather bluntly that it was ridiculously selfish to take the blame for things. It transferred all the attention on him rather than on whoever was suffering. Harry still felt responsible for a lot of things, but it at the very least put a dent in the huge Harry Potter guilt complex.

The two friends sat in silence for awhile before it dawned on them that if Ron didn't sleep now, he probably wouldn't get the chance to again for another 24 hours. Harry went back to his bed with the promise to wake Ron in time to go to the girls' flat for breakfast. That way Ron's sleeping pattern wouldn't be skewed and he would still be able to sleep at least a couple of hours.

Neither Harry nor Ron had any idea what they were going to do when the next night came, but there wasn't anything they could do about it now.

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