Ron had always felt sort of awkward with his body. It grew faster than any body should. Grew up, that is. Not out. Just up. He got taller and no broader until he was this skinny sort of pole that loomed over everyone.

That wasn't right, not for a sixteen year old kid.

He had sort of big hands and long fingers, and big feet that his mum hated because she had to buy him shoes instead of him getting whatever the twins had outgrown.

He felt strange inside his skin. Taller than almost everyone, including the teachers, at Hogwarts, but skinny and weird. That, plus his bright red hair and horrid freckles dotting him everywhere, meant people noticed him. Which made him feel even more awkward.

Like walking down the halls at school during Quidditch season. When everyone knew what a joke he was, how horrid he was. When everyone was singing that song Malfoy had come up with. They could spot him coming and know right away who he was.

He hated it. He had no control over his body. It kept shooting upwards despite his desires. And his arms tended to wave around when he talked.

So being made temporarily mute bordered on horrible.

Everyone seemed to find it funny. The twins, of course, but they at least had to shut up about it when mum was around. The aurors that drifted in and out of the house found him to be comic relief. Tonks nearly tripped over herself going to the twins to order some of the potion.

Ginny laughed at his gangly-limbed game of charades as he tried to tell her what had happened to him without using words. He turned red and stopped moving. Let Neville tell her what happened.

Neville was the only one who was decent about it. After he got over his first bout of laughter, he looked at Ron in sympathy and spoke for him to the others.

In fact, Neville was surprisingly good at reading Ron's gestures and figuring out what he was trying to say.

The day stretched on, and Ron looked to the clock more and more. If he didn't get his voice back soon he was going to scream.

Well. Figuratively.

The twins were smart enough to make their exits from the house safely short of the ten-hour deadline, wishing Ron well with matching grins.

After a dinner spent listening to conversations go on without him, Ron went right up to his room to sulk.

Such a small, stupid prank to bother him so much.

Neville came up soon after him, knocking on the door before sticking his head in. "Mind a bit of company?"

Ron shook his head with a sigh. He sat at the small desk, fiddling with a quill. It would be a good time to write Harry, since he couldn't communicate any other way.

Neville sat down on his bed and regarded Ron for a moment, then grinned. "I should visit that shop sometime. I'll bet it's brilliant."

Ron made a face.

"You should go too, maybe. At least to look over all the things they might be springing on you next."

Ron shook his head. Wouldn't do any good. Most of what they got him with lately were experiments that weren't on the shelves yet.

Neville looked to him in sympathy, then leaned over to study the small cactus he had sat by his bed. He studied it closely, prodded at its soil, and then seemed satisfied. "I was worried about this little guy. Thought he might not like traveling all packaged up."

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"He seems fine." Neville smiled at the plant fondly. "Soon he'll be mature enough for me to start lancing these boils and collecting the pus. Then the fun starts."

Ron made a face.

Neville grinned. "Well. Fun for me, anyway."

Hey, how was your summer so far? Ron scribbled onto the parchment in front of him. He stretched it out to Neville.

Neville took it and read it, then looked at Ron with bemusement.

Ron took it back, blushing, and wrote quickly.

I mean before you nearly got killed.

Neville laughed as he read it. "Pretty good, actually. Gran heard all about what happened at the Ministry, of course. More than what the Prophet printed. She knows a lot of people over there. She was really proud of me." His face shone with pride. "Said I finally did the family right."

Ron nodded enthusiastically. Neville without a doubt had improved his magic a hundred times over that year. He had worked harder than anyone to learn, and it showed.

But Neville's grin faded. "She didn't know that the Death Eater that escaped was…Lestrange."

Ron tilted his head to the side, frowning a bit.

Neville sighed. "She didn't know until I told her that...Lestrange did the curse on me."

Ron leaned in, storms gathering in his mind.

Neville looked down. "The crucio. Just once, you know, so no…no harm done. But when Gran found out, she really got upset. More upset than I've ever seen her. And when she found out that Lestrange is still out there…" He looked up again. "I don't know. She was already looking at places to send me to keep me safe. It was that attack outside St. Mungo's that made her go to Dumbledore. I think she was pretty scared."

Ron could tell form Neville's face that his Gran must not get scared often. He nodded to Neville with eyebrows raised.

"Me?" Neville laughed quietly. "I was terrified."

Ron nodded in understanding.

"But this place is nice. I was worried I'd end up in some Ministry place with no one I knew. I'm glad you're here." He blushed a bit. "And Ginny, you know? And you say Harry and Hermione will be here soon."

Ron grabbed his parchment back and scribbled messily.

Glad you're here too.

Neville smiled at him, looking as shy as he had first year at Hogwarts.

Ron's throat suddenly seemed to vibrate a bit. A strange tightness in his neck seemed to loosen.

The spell was gone, he figured out. Ten hours on the nose.

Still, he didn't try and talk yet. He looked at Neville silently, thinking it strange how little he really knew about him. Finding out about his parents was huge. Ron had thought of Neville as a friend, but how could he never notice that Neville didn't speak of his parents? How could he not ask even once?

Maybe because the other students in their year were eager to tell their own stories. Harry everyone knew already. Hermione and Dean shared stories of their Muggle parents' reactions to the Hogwart's letter. Seamus talked at length (and pretty amusingly) about his mismatched Muggle father and Witch mother.

Neville had never offered his story, so no one had ever asked.

That was sort of too bad. It meant Neville had gone through five years at Hogwarts unable to talk to anyone about it.

It meant, too, that for a clumsy and forgetful boy, absent-minded as Neville seemed to be, he was fierce when it came to keeping secrets.

No, Ron really knew nothing about Neville. So he was glad Neville was there, for more than one reason.

Neville cleared his throat and went into motion suddenly, standing and going to the drawers where his clothes were tucked away. "I think I'll get a bit of sleep. I'm not used to doing so many chores; I'm sort of sleepy. Anyway, when you wake up tomorrow you'll have your voice back. That's something, isn't it?" He smiled back at Ron.

Ron hesitated, but just smiled back and nodded his agreement. He wondered if Neville would talk so much if he knew Ron could talk back.

Ron went to his drawer and grabbed his pajamas. He changed quickly and with just a bit of self-consciousness – he was used to changing clothes in front of his schoolmates, but now he was about ten feet taller and all skin and bones, so he wasn't exactly casual about it.

Awkward. He felt awkward again, and he hated it.

Fortunately, he was with someone who understood. Neville was always awkward about himself. He was normal height, but he had more weight on him than most of the other kids. He wasn't fat or anything. Not like Harry's stories of his cousin, anyway. But he didn't have the leanness of kids used to playing sports and running around all day. He was soft of soft and chubby.

He was shy about himself, so he changed into his own pajamas with his back turned, and spared both of them embarrassment.

They crawled into their beds, and Ron shut the lamp off.

There was silence for a minute, and then Neville's voice sounded softly in the dark. "Ron?"

Ron turned to him and waited.

But Neville just sighed. "Never mind."

***

Ron was used to waking up to the sounds of nightmares. He had, after all, spent five years sleeping beside Harry at school.

Only this wasn't Harry, so he didn't automatically stand up and go over there and try and shush those distressed sounds.

This was Neville.

It made Ron hesitate, but not for very long. Neville was a friend, and Ron wasn't the type to sit there and watch people suffer.

He stood up and dragged his feet to Neville's bed. He yawned as he sat, and rested a hand on Neville's arm the same he did with Harry.

Harry's nightmares were easy to handle. Ron sat there for a little while and touched him on his arm or stomach or something and murmured whatever came into his head. Harry would quiet down pretty fast and roll over and go on snoring without a bit of memory of it the next day.

Neville seemed much the same at first. He stopped whimpering and started murmuring into his pillow, tensing under Ron's hand.

Ron shushed him quietly. His eyes felt heavy and tried to slide shut, but he forced them open. "Hey. Neville. It's okay. You're asleep. Everything's okay." He spoke automatically, using the same sort of things he said to Harry those long nights at school. He blinked through the darkness at Neville's hair on the pillow, lighter than Harry's. "You're okay, Neville. I promise."

Neville jerked under his hand suddenly, and suddenly two bright spots shone reflecting the faint light. "Who's there?" Neville's voice was panicked.

Ron was quick to pull his hand back . "It's me. Ron. Sorry, you were…you know. Bad dream, it sounded like."

Neville sat up slowly. "Yeah. Sorry. I woke you?"

Ron shrugged. "No worries. You okay?"

Neville sat still.

Ron frowned. "Uh. Hey, mind if I turn on…?"

"Go ahead."

Ron reached for the lamp and tapped it, filling the room with light. It took a few moments of squinting against the brightness before Neville's form became clear.

Neville's eyes were shut against the light. He leaned against the headboard of his bed, his knees folded up to his chest.

"You okay?" Ron asked again with a sharp frown.

Neville pried his eyes open slowly and shrugged. "I hate nightmares. I don't get them often, but…"

Ron hesitated. He wasn't sure how to handle this – Harry had only woken up once or twice during the nightmares, and he usually just pushed Ron away and stayed silent. "Um. Can I…do anything?"

Neville seemed surprised. "I don't think so."

Ron smiled at that faintly. As odd as he felt, Neville seemed just as out of sorts. Ron wondered suddenly if that Gran of Neville's was as cold towards Neville as he described. Had anyone ever woken Neville from his nightmares?

The idea that Neville wasn't used to getting comforted made Ron a little less tense about the whole thing. He sat down on the edge of Neville's bed. "Wanna go back to sleep?"

Neville grimaced before he could stop himself. "No. I'll just read or something. I'll be fine if you want to…"

"Don't be stupid. I'll keep you company."

"Yeah?" Neville smiled.

Ron smiled back. "Yeah."