It was the first night. Harry had crashed onto the mattress on Ron's floor, exhausted, and kicked off his shoes without even changing clothes, but now he lay awake.

Ron was awake, too, staring up at the Chudley Cannons poster on his ceiling and listening to Harry fidget. His watch ticked quietly, and was the only thing to break the perfect silence until Harry said into the darkness, "Ron?"

"Yeah," Ron answered, voice low.

"Do I-" Harry hesitated, fisting the sheets. "Do I talk in my sleep?"

Ron rolled to face him. The moonlight cast Harry's face into shadow, but he could still see the small anxious movements. His brow furrowed. "A bit," he said. "Why?"

"Nothing," Harry said immediately. "It's really nothing. Just something Dudley said to me."

Ron felt hot and cold at the same time. The truth was, Harry really only made noise when he was having a nightmare. "What did he say?" he whispered.

Harry blinked up at him at the sudden change of tone, trying to decipher Ron's expression without his glasses. "Nothing," he repeated.

"Harry," Ron said, a note of questioning entering his voice.

"Goodnight, Ron," Harry said, slightly too loud, and then rolled over.

"Night," Ron whispered, staring at Harry's back.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, remembering Harry's rude and cruel relatives and wondering what they'd done.

The next morning, Harry looked even more exhausted than the night before. He was irritable, though still polite as always over breakfast, and seemed oddly stiff in his movements.

Hermione squinted at him over the Daily Prophet, which Mr. Weasley had kindly passed on to her when he'd finished the front section. "Harry," she said, her voice low, although they were the only three in the living room, "Are you all right?"

Ron winced. Harry had already been asked twice this morning, and he could see the tension building in his shoulders.

"Yes!" Harry snapped. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"Well," Hermione began timidly, "You look a bit…"

"A bit what?" Harry demanded. He grimaced as he pulled himself off the sofa and stood unevenly. His glare dared them to comment.

Hermione glanced at Ron helplessly.

"You look a bit sore, mate," Ron finished for her. "Something happen?"

Harry's eyes flashed. "I look sore, do I?" he snarled. "Couldn't be the imprint of a chain link fence on my back, could it?"

Ron caught the flash of regret on Harry's face before he flipped around to face the window and muttered, "Sorry."

"It's all right," Hermione said softly, exchanging a look with Ron. She set the paper down carefully. "Who pushed you?"

"Dudley," Harry said darkly. He turned back around with a note of pleading suddenly in his eyes. "But don't tell anyone, all right? It's no big deal, I started it."

Ron frowned. He'd never seen Harry start a fight with anyone but Draco Malfoy. "Why?"

Harry looked at the carpet. "Doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," Hermione said at once. "If he's done something really-"

Harry was shaking his head. "It's really nothing," he insisted, and Ron remembered their late night conversation.

"Is it about what he said to you?" he asked somberly. "Something about your sleep-talking?"

Hermione was looking anxiously between them. "What are you talking about?"

Harry pressed his lips into a flat line. Ron sighed. "Dudley heard him talking in his sleep," he told Hermione.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry mumbled, and sat down again, wincing slightly.

He looked pale and grim and… small. The last time he had looked like that, he had been covered by the white sheets of the hospital wing at Hogwarts. With an unpleasant cold weight dropping into his stomach, Ron realized what was going on. "He heard something about Cedric Diggory, didn't he?"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped reproachfully, and turned to Harry, who had twitched at the name.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. Blush heated his cheeks. "Asked if he was my boyfriend."

"So you jumped him," Ron said, nodding grimly. "Good on you."

Hermione was gazing sadly at Harry. "Did you win?"

Harry's jaw clenched and the blush reached his ears. "No," he admitted angrily. "Dudley's gone and joined the wrestling team."

"Right," Ron said, standing up. "Fred and George will take care of him. We don't have to tell them why, they've met Dudley-"

"You can't, Ron-" Hermione tried to interject, but Ron went on pacing and planning.

"-some more of those toffees, and maybe a telescope, too," he mused.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said, a grin cracking open his pale expression. "But I'm good."

Ron stopped and gave him a surprisingly fierce look. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and smiled tiredly at both of them. "I'm sure. Thanks."