This time nobody was there to kick the boys awake. It was a perfect morning underneath the warm blankets, a slight heat rose from the wooden floorboards which kept both Ron and Harry lulled in a deep sleep. Ron was trapped in a dream and Harry was dribbling uncontrollably onto his pillow, neither if them seemed at all interested in waking before lunch - not that Molly would allow them to.

Hard and heavy footsteps trudged up the stairs. Unmistakeably, the footfalls were filled with anger. They grew closer and closer although the boys were oblivious to their presence that is until the person stormed into the bedroom. Each step made Ron's eyes twitch until eventually the soles stopped moving. The figure towered over Ron creating a shadow from the morning sunlight. Eyes barely open, glued shut with crust, Ron gazed up expecting to see his mother. Instead Hermione's sharp features glared down at him. At first he took no notice, still being dreadfully unaware. After a slow double take, his eyes shot open. He scrambled for the duvet in order to hide his morningly manly reflex.

"Why is it that whenever I come to see you, you're both asleep!?" Hermione cried out, hands on hips disapprovingly. Ron kicked Harry from under the blanket to save him a harsh slap round the head.

"Mnn?" Harry groaned out, eyes still firmly shut out of protest. Ron just kicked him again, this time slightly harder. "What Ron?" Harry proped himself up with his arms shivering under the unfamiliar dead weight. Once sat up, Harry looked around, one eye open. He'd caught Hermione out of the corner of his eye, his neck bent backwards, rather confused.

"Nice to see you too!" Hermione flicked Harry's right ear, it took a lot of reservation to not hit them both, after all she was a lady (she tried to remind herself).

"When did you get here?" Harry licked his lips, the moisture was absorbed instantly so he licked them again.

"Just now. Your mum said she'd cook you something if you come down." Ron yawned and stretched out his arms, the tufts of ginger hair under his armpits were flatten with sweat. Ron couldn't help but check to see if he smelt, "charming." Hermione cringed as she watched Ron shove his nose under his arms.

"Brilliant. You think you could give us a minute?" Ron coughed.

"Oh...well I'll be downstairs." Hermione left it at that and followed her path back downstairs. Ron collapsed backwards and rubbed his eyes exhaustedly.

"We'd better go down before she kills us." Ron exhaled, "might want to wash a little first." Ron slowly came back up and this time to his feet. He stretched upwards, his shirt riding up his stomach as he furthered towards the ceiling, exposing his stomach. Harry rubbed the corner of his mouth and his left cheek harshly, trying to clear away the dried saliva.

"What time is it?" Harry felt like he'd gotten barely any sleep, his eyes failed to remain open despite his burning will power.

"Dunno, early I expect." Ron shrugged, lending a hand to Harry, who seemed to be struggling to make the journey from the warmth of the floor to his feet. Harry tookthe offer and heavily rose to his feet. The sudden movement made his head pound and his vision grew blurry. Although it wasn't intended, Harry collapsed forward onto Ron, the other gripped him tightly. Harry waited in Ron's embrace until his brain stopped throbbing. "You alright?" Ron couldn't help but run his hand over Harry's head, feeling the sillyness of his hair, trying to soothe him gently.

"Head rush." Harry ignored Ron's actions as an act of kindness, he had afterall, put Ron in an awkward position. Whilst his vision cleared and the thumping stopped, Harry pushed himself off of Ron's chest.

Meanwhile downstairs, Molly had prepared Hermione and Ginny a fresh batch of cookies, the two were picking them up by the dozen. The two girls had stopped to chat about the ball a few days ago. Hermione had questioned Ginny's choice for a date, seeing that Nevil didn't really appear to be a first choice.

"Well, he's kind of sweet, y'know. He asked me and I didn't have anybody to go with." Ginny tried to defend her decision but Hermione wasn't insinuating anything wrong with dating Nevil. Instead Hermione just laughed, "What about you and Viktor? You turned a few heads." Ginny smirked. smirkede began to blush.

"A girl can't say 'no' when Viktor Krum comes knocking at her door." The two couldn't help but double over like the giggling school girls they were.

"I think Ron was a little shocked." Ginny broke the laughter. Hermione scratched her scalp anxiously.

"I think he was expecting me to go with him, that we would both be dateless and lump it together. So it's understandable that he'd be shocked." Hermione had remembered yelling at Ron on the night of the ball after his hurtful things he had said about Viktor. It was all seemingly fresh in her mind, Ron had made her cry that night and the two had been on edge for ages afterwards. Ron had been fine all the way up untilthe end of the night when he suddenly flipped in the common room, he had obviously been out of character.

"What'd you and Harry get up to after we left?" Hermione was twirling her dress in extacy. He eyes twinkled with bliss. She'd been back in the common room for a while now but she resented the idea of talking off her dress.

"Nothing, just danced really, then walked for a bit. He's gone to rest a little." Ron thought that Hermione looked beautiful, seeing her walking down the stairs and meeting Viktor at the bottom had enraged him. Looking her in the eyes felt like something he couldn't do.

"What's up with you?" Hermione had noticed that Ron was avoiding her glances by turning his head and looking at the floor. Hermione's smile sank a little.

"Nothing. I should head back. It's late." Ron was overall disappointed, he'd been happy all night but seeing Hermione had brought back the hurt he'd felt earlier on in the night. Ron kept his head to the ground and turned back.

"It's not good to sleep in a bad mood." Hermione expected an answer, being the motherly person she was, the general wellbeing of her friends was important to her, even if that wasn't apparent one hundred percent of the time. "Maybe its something I can help you with?"

"Doubt it. Just forget it 'Mione." Ron continued to walk on. Hermione huffed loudly, she had been confused as to why Ron was being shady with her and she'd remembered where she'd seen Ron's pure agonising look.

"Is this about Viktor?" Her words rang in the air. Ron stopped moving, he stood in place and shook his head. "Well? Is it?" Shr demanded, her voice stern and slightly toned with anger.

"What can I say? He's slimey." Ron was careful not to raise his voice, most of the house were already asleep. Instead his eyes sent daggers of hatred that his voice could not muster. Hermione crooked her neck backwards in surprise. Her face quickly turned to sadness.

"Slimey? Who was it wanting his autograph?" Hermione bit out.

"He'sjust going to use you. Besides he's too old -" Ron felt as if he was protecting Hermione, looking out for her intentions but really, he had no idea what was best, he had no right to try and meddle with Hermione's relationships.

"Too old? I'm perfectly capable of looking out for myself." She threw herself into the large armchair in front of the fireplace. She held her head in her hands, she felt enraged but it didn't seem worth an argument.

"Clearly, just making sure you know what you're doing." Ron waited for Hermione to answer but she remained silent, she wasn't going to let Ron spoil her evening. Instead she waited for him to leave the room before getting up herself. For a few brief moments she stood next to the fire and she basked in the heat. She took a deep breath and bit down on her bottom lip so that the tears welling in her eyes didn't fall. She was a strong and independent woman, she had no time for Ron's pettiness. Instead she wished to remember the night as it was, full of glee and dancing.

"I think he likes you. He talks about you a lot. So he's probably jealous." Ginny had been dreadfully blunt. Hermione was stunned, she would have never guessed that Ron could have liked her, as far as she knew, they barely got along.

"Really? Since whe-" Both Harry and Ron came into the room, Hermione refrained from mentioning anymore. Whether it was true or not, this was not something that should be approached hastily.

"What you two yabbering on about?" Ron asked, noticing the sudden silence that swept the room. Ginny and Hermione looked at each other but neither of them said anything. "Never mind, probably boys." Hermione looked down at her reflection in the liquid in her cup. Ginny faked a smile to distract her brother from Hermione's sullen face.

"Goodness you two, thought you'd never get up!" Molly raised a brow at her son, disappointed that he hadn't made an effort to welcome Hermione.

"Guess we were tired." Ron shrugged. Harry simply nodded along, still hopelessly lost.

"Don't make excuses Ronald Weasley. Now sit down, the both of you." The two sat downwithout question. Molly was already making them something to eat.

"So, how was your Christmas?" Hermione suppressed her struggles and put on a brave face she would have to wait to be alone to think about things in the way she usually does; through intensive reading and compiling lists.

"Great, Charlie came down for dinner." Harry began to perk up as the smell of slightly burning bacon lit his nostril hairs on fire and the sizzle from the sausages made his eyes water. He hadn't woken up hungry like usual, instead, the smell put him off.

"Yeah it was brilliant. Harry got a new broom, show her Harry." Harry sluggishly pushed his chair bacl and got up. He was glad to be ducking out of the kitchen, even for a split second to grab his new broom.

"There was no name attached but I knew who it was from anyway." Harry held the broom proudly by his side, although he was on the short side, he still stood past the height of the broom. He still marveled in its beauty.

"Sirius?" Harry nodded cheerfully, "it really is a head turner. I'm sure Draco will be jealous." Hermione didn't find much interest in the sport but seemed enthusiastic about the gift either way. To her, quidditch was as similarly overrated as muggle football, of which her father was goo-goo eyed for.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure not even Lucius would have been able to get it that quick, its only been out for like two weeks." Harry could only envision Draco's dopey face glaring at him from across the pitch, in which Harry simply stood grinning ear to ear. That's not why he loved the broom so much, but he'd be lying if it wasn't a contributing factor.

"Not a chance." Ron added, the secondary smugness taking over.

"What did you do yesterday Hermione?" Harry, dipped out of the room and returned without the broom. Hermione slapped her thighs as she tried to mentally sum up her Christmas day.

"Well," Hermione smiled, "I spent the whole day my family, having a relatively normal Christmas. Playing silly games and gathering around the tree in the morning to open our presents." Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had play pass-the-parcel or sung Christmas karaoke. It was a blessing to have such normality after a particularly stressful term.

"Sounds decent. Bet you got lots?" Ron had always insinuated that Hermione came from a rich background - he wasn't incorrect. Dentists are highly paid but their family didn't focus on materialistic possessions, instead, they would save money to go on holidays and trips. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Not particularly, no. I got what I wanted and I received the mince pies and the lemon meringue. My nan would like your recipe." Hermione turned to Molly, the meringue hadn't lasted more than ten minutes.

"Oh I'm delighted. Remind me before you leave and I'll give you the recipe." Two plates drifted from the clean pile on the drainer to the table, each landing in front of Harry and Ron. Molly turned off the stove and began to scrape the contents of the frying pan onto the plates, giving Harry a cheeky extra sausage.

"Anyone would think YOU were her son." Ron took a fork from the centre of the table and started eating. Molly slapped him playfully around the back of his head.

"He is my son, aren't you Harry?" Molly winked at Harry, whenever she could, she'd give Harry extra to fill him out a little even if he was only staying a few days. Molly already knew that her son was a lump of a boy and he didn't really need the extra sausage.

"Oh yeah, of course." Harry pricked the sausage and pulled it off onto Ron's plate.

"You're lucky to have a friend like Harry. He'd give you is last meal if you were still hungry. You'd better appreciate him." Both brows raised and the finger came out, Ron gulped. Harry tossed about the rest of his food, not really feeling like eating.

"You should eat Harry. You like bacon." Hermione watched Harry fuss and pick at his food. Harry was a picky eater but Molly knew Harry's do's and don'ts and only gave him what he'd eat.

"I'm not hungry. I'll eat later." Harry left the cutlery on the plate and sat back in his chair. Hermione glared at him disapprovingly. Harry tried his best to ignore her.

"Harry dear, would you like some toast instead?" Molly didn't like the idea of Harry going hungry all day, not that there wouldn't be lots on offer through out the day, but breakfast was more important than fruit cake.

"No, really I'm fine. Here you go Ron." Harry pushed his plate towards Ron.

"Harry, you need to eat. At least have a sausage, for me?" Molly felt a pang of pride, she knew she'd raised Ron right, his caring nature was something that seemed missing from some of the other Weasley children. Since Molly hlad cottoned on, it warmed her heart knowing that Ron would be a good boyfriend - she wouldn't have to worry.

"I don't want anything. You have it Ron. It'll go to waste otherwise." Harry wasn't his usual sarcastic self which worried Ron somewhat.

"You're not ill are you?" Everybody had lent in waiting for Harry to answer, each concerned.

"No, I'm just not hungry. I'll probably regret it later but I'm not hungry." It was best not pester and so nobody questioned Harry again. Instead, Ron put Harry's plate in the fridge, he wasn't going to eat Harry's breakfast when he might want it later on.

The day only went down hill from there, by mid-day Harry was resting on the sofa with a blanket and hot water bottle nestled closely to his chest. Only yesterday, he'd felt completely fine and rejoiced. Yet now, only 12 hours later, he felt like garbage. Molly had added more wood to the fireplace once Harry had been overthrown with violent shivers, only to have a fever at the same time.

Ron was hovering the entire time, constantly asking if Harry wanted something, anything, to make himself feel useful. Molly kept smacking him away telling him that Harry wouldn't get any better if he kept waking him up. He knew that she was right but he really couldn't help it. Hermione was trying to get Harry to eat, helping Molly in the kitchen make some chicken soup. Harry had drank the soup alongside half a slice of bread. It wasn't much and it took a great deal of pestering to get Harry to eat.

"Want a wet cloth?" Ron had his hands in his pockets and approached Harry gingerly with a soft tone. He'd already been lectured by Molly, but she had told him nothing about talking to Harry when he was awake.

"No. I'm okay." Harry looked incredibly pale, his dark mess of hair had become greasy with sweat and stuck to his forehead.

"You're not, you're sick. We shouldn't have slept on the floor, it's deadly cold at night." Ron felt guilty for not thinking and being lured into the memories. He should have known that it wasn't the best idea at this stage in winter.

"It's probably not the floor, it was bound to happen, I've been stressed lately and barely scrapped not being ill during school." Ron could understand, having contributed to some of Harry's stress. As if a cold breeze has swept in from an open window, Harry shivered and his teeth chattered. Harry pulled the blanket up further over his chin.

"I'll make you a hot cup of tea." Harry had a table full of half drunken cups of cocoa and cups of tea. He always waited until the drink cooled but more often than not, completely forgotten about them. He did this even when he wasn't ill.

"Hey-" Harry called quietly, "have you given Hermione her gift?" Harry attempted to sit up a little and Ron rushed to pull him back down, whispering 'rest' straight into his ear. The single word sent ripples down his spine.

"I was waiting for you, it's from both of us afterall." Ron had thought about giving the gift earlier when Hermione had hinted at it but he didn't, not without Harry.

"Give it to her Ron. You might score some brownie points." Ron's heart sunk a little and once again Charlie's words bounced around his head, Harry didn't know and Ron wasn't ready for him to know but if flirting with Hermione was expected, then he wouldn't be able to hold up the charade.

"Later." Ron walked out of the room and towards the kitchen where Molly and Hermione sat at the table. He sighed heavily before filling the kettle and popping it onto the stove. It'd only been a little while since the kettle was last used so the water would warm quicker.

"How is he?" It'd been half an hour since she'd last poked her head round the door, at that time Harry had been fast asleep and snoring. She'd checked his forehead and he was still burning. She left him to sleep for a little longer.

"Alright. I guess." Molly nodded and continued to scan the newspaper in her hands. The house was incredibly quiet which Molly didn't like, Arthur had taken the boys out to Diagon Alley to spend the Christmas money they'd gotten yesterday, with stern warning to not buy fireworks or explosives..

"He won't drink this one like the last few." Hermione was tired of squeezing tea bags and mixing sugar. They only went to waste and the milk was running low.

"I'm gonna sit in there wiv 'im to make sure he does. Keep 'im company." It was only four o'clock in the afternoon but Ron was suffering from major heart ache. Watching Harry shiver and cough was a little painful.

"We should both be there. I can read him a book, I got this really great novel from my Auntie yesterday about drafting-" Hermione was cut short.

"No offence 'Mione but the last thing Harry needs it to hear a book about potions." The kettle piercingly whistled on the stove and the funnel cap chattered. Ron lifted the kettle and poured the water on the tea bag. He ritualisticaly stirred and put in the milk. He placed the spoon on the cow shaped dish that was already sticky.

"I suppose you're right. Perhaps I should go and talk to Ginny." This wasn't the boxing day she'd hoped for but it was hardly something she could control but it didn't leave her feeling any less disappointed.

"I was hoping that you'd help me in the kitchen, Ron is useless, you see." Molly knew that Ron wanted to be alone with Harry, to make him feel better. So she asked for Hermione's help to whip up some brownies, nothing cured the flu like chocolate.

"Oh course. I'd be more than happy to." Molly proceeded to get the pots and bowls out of the cupboard above her head. It seemedlike all she did the last few days was cook - not that she minded of course.

"Thank you dear. Run along Ronald." Molly hurried her son along.

"I've got your tea..." Ron approached closer when Harry didn't reply. From a distance he hadn't seen Harry's eyes drawn shut. This time the boy wasn't snoring but sleeping peacefully. Ron carefully placed the cup next to the four others, trying not to make a sound. Ron took it upon himself to check Harry's temperature, with the back of his hand he lightly pressed against Harry's forehead. The poor boy was still seriously hot and it seemed Molly's charms hadn't put much of a dent in his condition. Ron felt Harry's cheeks, they were flushed red rather than a pale like before. Harry's cheeks were warm, but so was Ron's hand. He knew it wasn't an accurate measure.

Ron hovered above Harry's face momentarily, kneeling down next to him as Harry slept. Ron had only ever watched Harry sleep once on the train to Hogwarts last Christmas, even then his cheeks flooded a rouge then, so it must have been a normal thing. Normally it was babies who went red when they slept, which made Harry appear delicate and cute. Not that Ron would ever say those words beyond the confines of his mind. Gazing down at Harry's face eased the throbbing in his chest.

Ron still couldn't be sure about what he wanted from Harry or whether he really had fallen for his best mate but all he knew was that what he was feeling wasn't usual and shouldn't be dismissed as heartburn. He didn't know much aboutromance, he'd never seen a romantic film or read a romantic book, the only insight he had was the overheard whispers of girls in the common room, saying how their new crush kept them sleepless and they had constant flutters. Yet, Ron had always assumed that he liked girls, he liked Hermione and he'd had a small crush on his teacher in primary school but neither were the same as to what he was experiencing now. Was he gay, he wasn't quite sure. OR was it just Harry - did he only have feelings for one male in particular?

Ron was sure that Harry would woken up by now, whilst being lost in his thoughts he'd come progressively closer to Harry's face - so close that his warm breath was renouncing off of Harry's skin. He wasn't sure why he'd come this close only that a raw urge was controlling him, forcibly pushing him forward. Not that he felt any inclination to withdraw and overthrow the urge. His eyes closed, beyond his control and fate took over.

His plump lips perched slightly as they softly approached Harry's, the heat from Harry's mouth making his lips moist. Their lips touched, Ron instantly felt the need to pull back, but he knew he was no longer in control of his actions and he gently deepened the kiss. Harry was still asleep, blissfully unaware. Ron's head exploded, like Fred had set off a firecracker close to his face, then all went silent, his mind ceased to think, to care, to know. The state was euphoric, the subtle feel of Harry's lips underneath his felt right, so much so that even the racing of his pulse slowed and the world around him fell away.

That is until a sudden loud sound broke the moment, somebody had dropped a dish and it had bounced on the floor. Ron opened his eyes, the lingering happiness remained and he rested his forehead on Harry's. Whilst the kiss was brief and unreciprecated, Ron couldn't help but imagine it being mutual and a sense of longing quickly replaced the euphoria. Harry's eues rolled under his eyelids and Ron took that as an indication that he should quickly pull away. Luckily he had because Harry soon awoke.

"What was that?" Harry felt startled and sat up, searching the room for answers. Whilst he wasn't aware of what had happened, he knew that something had, he'd filled with an unknown emptiness all of a sudden that broke his sleepiness.

"What?" Ron made the smart decision to keep what had happened quiet. Whilst he so desperately wanted to pull Harry in and divulge in his lips again, he knew that now wasn't the right time. He wondered for a split moment if any time would be appropriate.

"I dunno, something. Was I asleep?" Harry couldn't remember falling asleep at all, he must have drifted off whilst dozing.

"Yeah, did you have a bad dream?" Ron managed a small smile as Harry began to settle back into his bed on the sofa.

"No... No. It wasn't a bad dream, or a dream at all. I think..." Harry had felt Ron's soft embrace and he'd unconsciously lulled into it, without knowing entirely what it was, only that it brought with it an overwhelming peacefulness.

"Right? You feeling any better?" Harry nodded lightly, admittedly, he was. He was hungry even, but he still felt extremely tired and extremely cold.

"Mum's making brownies. Suppose you're not hungry yet?" Ron handed Harry over the cup of tea, seeing as it was still hot, but not overly hot.

"I am... I'm just not ready to get up." Harry yawned loudly. Ron was glad that Harry had gotten his appetite back, it was proving to be a slow process back to normal. Ron was prepared to look after Harry for as long as it took.

"I'll go get you something. Just stay in bed." Harry hated being the focus of attention, he just wanted to get up and remove the burden on everybody else.

"Thanks...Ron." Harry sat back again and pulled the blanket back, he knew that he was in no state to be getting up and only doing so would cause people to flitter around him like a dead man walking. Ron just gave Harry a reassuring grin and left the room again.

Harry had eaten, although he mainly picked at his food, he managed to eat two cold sausages and a slither of bacon from what he'd left earlier on in the morning. Molly had tried to get him to eat more, she even resorted to tempting him with brownies but the very thought of sickly chocolate made his stomach churn and his mouth dry. There wasn't much chance of him eating anything for dinner despite Molly serving up the leftovers from yesterday's feast. Harry was still incredibly tired but he forced himself to sit up rather than give in to the temptation, he was firmly wrapped in his blanket up to the neck.

"Ron didn't want to give you your gift while I was asleep, so we'd better give it to you now before I crook my neck and fall asleep right here, right now." Harry smiled wearily, knowing that the possibility of falling asleep was very likely.

"You two didn't really have to get me anything you know." Hermione felt flattered but somewhat sceptical, given the terrible history of dodgy christmas gifts and irksome birthday presents. She wasn't expecting much from either of them.

"Yes we did. If we didn't, you would have eaten us." Ron had brought the gift down earlier that day and slyly left it under the tree. He quickly ran to grab it.

"Quite possibly." She would have been utterly heartbroken if she'd not been given anything from her best friends.

"Here-" Ron handed Hermione the box, she cautiously felt its weight and gently shook it, "don't trust us?" Hermione could hardly form a basis of faith. She still wasn't completely satisfied that something wasn't going to pop out but she proceeded to untie the bow. She quickly glanced at the label attached to the box, not recognising the name of the store or its logo. Once the lid of the box was free she took a deep breath and slowly opened the box.

"You'll like it, I promise." Harry coughed out.

"Mnn?" Hermione peeled back the tissue paper to reveal beneath a layer of velvet cloth, at first she was confused, thinking that the cloth was a facade and something utterly barbaric lay underneath. Instead she pulled out the velvet and the dress unfolded. "A dress?" Hermione held it up in the air in front of herself.

"You don't like it? We can take it back." Ron exhanexchanged a worrying glance with Harry who seemed to be similarly on edge.

"No, I love it. It's just not what I expected from you both." She stood up and checked its length and fittings, it wasn't something that she would have picked but sshe was seemingly impressed, the boys had managed to get something as beautiful as they had.

"The lady in the shop said you would." Ron shifted the blame as he watched Hermione evaluate the tiniest of detail. Ron's unease faded as Hermione's smile grew, the more she looked, the more she liked. She wanted to put the dress on already, not only was the silhouette flattering but the fabric would feel angelic against her skin.

"Its beautiful." Hermione reluctantly began to pack the dress away, "I'll be expecting something twice as nice next year. You've raised the bar, you can't just buy any old thing." Harry smiled genuinely but weakly. Hermione kept the folded dress in her hands feeling and running her fingers over the silkieness, it was soothing.

"Damn." Ron complained cheekily. The way the group gelled brought Harry's mood up dramatically but didn't reduce his tiredness, although it had become more manageable. Instead, he'd decided that it would be better to sleep when the time came around to it so that he slept the night through. The Weasleys didn't have a TV but they had a radio and it felt appropriate that listening to the annual Christmas songs was the best way to fill the time until Arthur returned and all hell broke loose.

The night went by, very much eventful. Of course Arthur hadn't been able to stop Fred and George spending their money on firecrackers, Molly had been fuming when Fred had lit one during flu travel, it has fizzled and ricocheted off of the ceiling making a rather dramatic entrance. Molly had confiscated them, willing to give them back if the twins helped out with dinner. Begrudgingly they accepted her terms with high hopes of playing firebomb quidditch in the yard.

It'd barely turned 7 when Harry finally fell back to sleep, luckily they'd migrated up to the attic so that nobody would have to carry Harry up the stairs. Not much really happened passed that point, Hermione got ready for bed and retired to Ginny's room for some much needed girly chatter. Ron remained silent but grabbed a piece of parchment and his quil from his luggage, he wanted to write to Charlie about what he should do about his perplexing issue.

He wrote:

Charlie, it's me, Ron.

You got home alright? Can't say that my situation at home is any better, I'm too afraid confused about what to do. You told me to tell Harry that I was gay... but am I? I dunno. Bloody hell, is it frustrating. I can't just tell him, it'd freak him out, y' know? You've been through it, how'd you manage, was it easy? Harry isn't against gays or anything but he's my best mate, won't he be put off? Never mind, I'm just not sure what to do. Help.

Cheers.

Ron read over his note, it was a poor excuse for a note but he knew his brother would make sense of it anyhow. Ron sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it back away from his face. After careful contemplation, he finally decided to in fact send the letter. He rolled the parchment up and tied it with some string. Ron stood at the window, quietly cooing and calling for his dopey bird. Of course, Pigwigeon made an inelegant entrance, squawking and flapping his wings against the window frame. Once the letter was tightly placed, the bird took off in search for Charlie.

Ron wasn't ready to sleep as of yet so he lay silently, eyes fixated on the white and stained ceiling above himself. He did this, mind absent, for an hour before he got up to shower. In the shower, his mind was still blank, he was thankful, his mind had been busy for a while now with very little rest. By the time Ron was tired enough, he'd written the opening conclusion to a potions essay (deciding that he knew too little to write the rest) and he'd organised pile of clothes to give to Harry that no longer fit him. He hoped that Harry would be feeling better by the time morning came about. At 12, he pulled up the duvet and closed his eyes.