Ron grinned at the sight of Hedwig waiting for him when he opened his eyes the next morning.

He groaned a bit at a twist of muscles in his neck, and rubbed at the spot with a wince. Must have slept oddly or something.

The reason why was apparent a moment later, when he sat up and found he'd slept awkwardly bent at the foot of Neville's bed.

The last thing he remembered was sitting there making small talk about school and O.W.L.S. He and Neville must have crashed hard.

Ron stretched his spine out, cursing (not for the first time) his gangly height. He was too bloody tall to fit on the beds the way he was supposed to. He had to go practically fetal to fit across the short way.

Hedwig hooted quietly and flew down to the bed, white feathers ruffling. A clawed foot with letter attached thrust its way towards his hand.

Ron took the letter with a grin. "Getting impatient lately, Hedwig. You'll be as excitable as Pig soon."

Hedwig hooted loudly in disgust at the mere idea.

Ron laughed quietly and stood with a glance towards Neville, who was still sleeping deeply. "Come on, I'll get you some food."

Hedwig followed, still ruffled over the comparison to Ron's own owl, who was perhaps a bit overeager and not at all as dignified as Hedwig seemed to thing owls should be.

Ron loped down the stairs and towards the kitchen, unfolding the parchment and smiling automatically at the familiar handwriting.

Ron,

Things are still quiet here. My uncle is still ignoring me rather than risk the anger of any of those 'horrible sorts' he met at the train station.

Ron grinned, remembering that. He moved into the kitchen and went for the small canister that held owl treats for Pig and the owls the aurors brought with them. He dug out a handful and set a pile on the table for Hedwig.

Aunt Petunia is a surprise, though. She's almost civil to me lately. Not nice or anything, of course, but she has actually stopped Dudley from picking on me a couple of times.

I know I'm going to be sent for soon to join you and Hermione. It's almost too bad, now that things are almost decent for once here. Besides, I can't say I'm looking forward to being back there.

Ron's smile faded. He looked away from the letter to watch Hedwig pick at her treats, then sighed to himself. He knew Harry would be going through a lot. He just hoped he'd be able to help Harry this time. He hadn't been much help last year. Too much time focused on his own problems.

Which was stupid, really. What was Quidditch compared to life? He should have paid more attention to Harry.

Ron frowned and went back to the letter. He'd just have to do better. Harry counted on him.

I don't have much to say. I haven't gotten my OWLS yet, so I'm still nervous. I guess you haven't got yours either, or you would have said. I hope they come soon.

Anyway, I'll see you soon, probably.

Harry

Ron folded it back up. At least Harry was sounding a bit more cheerful than last time. He would be upset for a long time over Sirius, but he was getting better.

Maybe it really was for the best that he had to stay with Muggles and get away from the magic world for a while. It would give him time on his own to sort out his feelings. Harry liked having a bit of distance when things went bad for him, Ron had noticed. Ron was exactly the opposite, himself, but he was learning to get used to it.

He regarded Hedwig as she finished her owl treats. "Should I send you on your way or does he want a response right off?"

Hedwig looked to the window and hooted quietly.

Ron smiled. Sometimes he thought Harry's owl was alarmingly smart. "Right." He went to the window and opened it. "Off you go. Give him a peck for me, eh?"

Hedwig glided off into the morning sky.

Ron watcher her and thought about Harry's letter.

OWLS. He didn't want to know how he did on his OWLS. He was distracted during every single exam. Words tended to swim around paper on any other normal test; they had been ten times worse for the OWLS. Plus his attention span, even during the practical exams, was horrid.

He probably did worse than the twins. Hopefully he did well enough to stay in school.

He wondered if it would really make a difference if he didn't.

Ron sighed at that. He could almost hear Hermione's voice in his mind, scolding him about low self-esteem or lowered expectations or other concepts he figured he didn't completely understand.

She seemed to think he beat himself up a lot or something. It made her break into lectures now and then about positive thinking. He wasn't sure she was right with all that, though. He didn't dislike himself or anything.

He headed back up the stairs, thinking about it.

He knew he wasn't all that smart. Percy was smart, and he was nothing like Percy. He also knew he wasn't quite as interesting as Bill or Charlie, or as fun as the twins, or as determined and winning as Ginny.

But he was a decent person, really. He had friends. He had done his share of brave things.

And he had made Neville laugh last night, while he was still pale from his nightmare. That had to count for something.

Neville greeted him as he came in to the room. "Morning."

Ron smiled at him, dropping Harry's letter to his bed and forgetting about it for the time being. "I'm glad you got a bit of sleep," he said in reply.

Neville grinned with his usual shy crookedness. "Yeah. Thanks. Good of you to stay with me."

"Anytime," Ron said easily. "I like talking to you." And he realized as he said it that it was true.

Talking with Neville last night had been really easy. Like talking with Harry used to be. Neville was a quiet sort, but he laughed easily when he was relaxed, and he was very honest. He was self-deprecating, but Ron was that as well, so they fit well together.

It was strange to realize that though he had known Neville as long as he had known Harry, he and Neville had never really sat and talked between them.

"Do we have another cleaning list for today?"

Ron sat on his bed and grinned. "Nah. Mum lets us have weekends. Besides, I think we're running out of things to do. They've been working on the house for a year now."

Neville looked around thoughtfully. "This was Sirius Black's house, wasn't it?"

Ron nodded, his grin fading. Sirius made him think of Harry. Thinking of Harry always made him feel bad.

God, he must be a horrible friend, because he was actually relieved that Harry wasn't there yet.

"But Sirius is dead. Won't someone get suspicious about people still using his house?"

"I don't think so. I overheard Mum explaining it to a group of aurors. The house is magic. Unplottable, I guess, and no one found it the years Sirius was in Azkaban. My dad's trying to get some of his friends in the Ministry to fake paperwork and get it turned over to Remus, since Sirius wanted him here. But it's got to be pretty safe if Dumbledore still wants us here."

Neville nodded slowly. "I guess he isn't going to tell a lot of people about it? Even though everyone knows about You Know Who being back now?"

"I dunno. I don't think he'll ever trust the Ministry all the way. Not with Fudge still in charge. Mostly the Order doesn't have to work in secret, but they're still going to keep the names of everyone here quiet, just in case."

Neville looked to him, impressed. "They must tell you a lot."

Ron felt himself flushing a bit. "Not really. I sort of overhear things, I guess. It's sort of a gift. People keep talking when I'm around, even though I shouldn't be hearing it. Except mum. She yells at me to go away."

Neville laughed. "I can't imagine anyone not noticing you were around."

Ron glanced down at himself, his nearly six foot frame topped with bright red tangles of hair. "You'd think, but it's sort of always been that way. Except when I'm with Harry." He shrugged. "It comes in handy."

"Yeah, I know. Except when the only people you want to ignore you make you so nervous you blow things up around them."

Ron laughed at Neville's crooked smile. "You wouldn't be talking about one of our professors, would you?"

Neville shrugged with a sigh. "I don't know why he gets to me so bad. Except all the other teachers sort of don't notice me, just like you described. And he's always there, breathing down my neck."

"Not Sprout," Ron reminded him with a smile. "She thinks you're brilliant."

It was Neville's turn to go pink. "I like Herbology."

"And you're bloody good at it."

Neville looked at him in surprise, then looked down.

"What?"

"I just.didn't think anyone really.you know. Noticed, or anything."

"Sure we do. You're our friend, Neville."

"But there's always so much going on. Especially with Harry."

Ron made a face. "Well. Harry only lets us in on some of it, so we're not as distracted as he is. Anyway, I'm bound to notice anyone who's better at a subject than Hermione is."

Neville flushed red. "I'm not. She gets great grades."

"Yeah, but. Well, one thing I've learned about Hermione. She can remember anything written in a book, but sometimes she's not so good at the practical stuff, you know? Besides, like Sprout says, Herbology is almost like Divination. Either you have the touch or you don't. And you must have it big time, 'cause you do really well. That Purple-Headed Springfig you grew last year? That was brilliant."

Neville lit up. "You liked it? It was just for extra credit, really, but she said it was bigger than most ever get, and it was only six months old."

"And it shot out those spikes into Goyle when he tried to kill it, remember? Turned his entire face purple for three days."

Neville giggled. "I didn't know anyone knew about it. I mean, how it happened."

Ron smiled at him. "I knew."

Neville grinned back, red-faced.