p One Sleeping Bag Short

p By: The Rowling Pierce Writer, 'Pierce'

D/C: They all belong to J.K., yada yada…

p Dumbledore waved his wand almost carelessly and a second later hundreds of fluffy purple sleeping bags had appeared across the hall. After Dumbledore bade them good night, Hermione swooped upon Ron.

p "What happened?" She asked urgently. She refused to move an inch until she heard the whole story straight from its source. The lights had been dimmed, and through the darkness they could make out figures adjusting into sleeping bags as they talked. When Ron finished, Harry led the way to three sleeping bags near the front of the hall. Collapsing onto the nearest one, Harry closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep. Ron and Hermione made for the two beside him, and stopped.

p "Ron?" Hermione said, her voice cracking slightly. "There's only one sleeping bag here." It was true. In the lack of light, an open, crumpled sleeping bag had looked like two, and now Harry was too deeply asleep to wake up and move.

p "I suppose we should lay it out…and share it?" Ron looked terrified.

p "It's the only sensible answer," Hermione squeaked. Together, with trembling hands, they unzipped the sleeping bag until it was a fluffy comforter on the floor.

p "You can have the pillow," Ron said, without thinking. Hermione smiled gratefully.

p "Thanks."

p Hermione stayed very much to the right of the sleeping bag, and Ron very much to the left, but despite their efforts, the bag had not been meant for two, and their backs were rubbing against each other. Hermione didn't seem to mind, though, she drifted off to sleep easily. Ron guessed that this was because she had a pillow.

p An hour later, Ron still hadn't joined Harry and Hermione in sleep. He didn't know what it was, usually a pillow wouldn't mean that much to him at all. He had noticed that over the past hour a feeling of happiness had been growing in him, and he lay back to ponder it. When Hermione shifted, and her hand brushed his, a spark of joy touched him. Surely he didn't…?

p Just then, Ron noticed that Hermione was shaking. She was cold, he realized. With nothing to protect her frail body from the harsh wind outside, Hermione was cold. Ron groaned and rolled off the sleeping bag, tucking his end of it over Hermione. Now he was pillow-less and sleeping bag-less. He tried to lay down on the floor, but it was too hard. He couldn't get comfortable.

p Relinquishing his end of the blanket from Hermione, Ron lay atop it once more, and scooted closer to the slumbering girl. His body warmth radiated onto her, and she began to calm. Ron, feeling that if he was going to eat an ice cream cone, he may as well have sprinkles, lay an arm around Hermione's torso. Now there was hardly any space between them at all.

p Hermione mumbled something in her sleep. Ron tensed, sure that she would awake and scream bloody murder. Instead, Hermione rolled right over, until she was lying completely in Ron's arms, her head on his shoulder. Ron froze.

p "C'est…libidinous," Hermione said in her sleep, and though Ron had no idea what 'C'est libidinous' meant, he took it as a sign that she was dreaming. He smiled, content, his terror forgotten.

p Whoa! Reality check, Ron thought. You're happy to be holding Hermione. YOU'RE happy to be holding Hermione. You're HAPPY to be holding Hermione. You're happy to be HOLDING HERMIONE. The full force of what he was doing smacked him in the gut. What was wrong with him? He mentally hit himself. How could he have—

p Ron looked down at Hermione, who lay there with a slight smile on her face. The image of her, so peaceful, made a warm, fuzzy feeling course through his body. His doubts faded away, replaced with visions of Hermione. Yes, he thought, as he closed his eyes, this whole girl thing wasn't as bad as it looked…

p *~*~*~*~*~*

p "Albus?"

p "Yes, Minerva?"

p "Is there any particular reason that we're one sleeping bag short?"

hr p -Pierce