Disclaimer: Psh. Right. Like I'm really JK Rowling.

The sun had long gone down when Mrs. Weasley finally stopped pressing food on everybody and insisted that everything get packed. "It won't do if we have bugs crawling all over our food, now will it? We'll pack everything up and then it's off to bed with all of you."

"Oh, c'mon, Mum, don't make us go to bed yet!" whined Fred. "The night's barely started! Besides, George and I are adults now. We can go to bed whenever we please."

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Fine, fine, then help me clean up, at least. But you three" –here she rounded on Harry, Ron, and Hermione—"I want you three to get straight to bed. None of you have slept well these past few weeks; just look at those circles under your eyes! Besides, if Fred and George are adults," she added, narrowing her eyes at the twins, "they'll have no problem taking on your share of the work, will they?"

"What?" yelped George.

"C'mon," Hermione whispered. "Let's get out of here before they start a row."

The three of them hurried away from the table and over to two small tents. They stood awkwardly in the dark until finally Hermione said, "Well, 'night," and went inside one.

"'Night," Ron called out belatedly. Harry didn't even seem to hear either of them. "Er…" When he still didn't do anything, Ron shrugged. "Right, well, I'll go change, then." He pushed open the flap and ducked inside.

Barely a second later, Ron had reemerged. "Harry!" he said. "Something… something's wrong with the tent!"

Harry frowned and pushed his way inside. He stuck his head back out and looked inquiringly at Ron. "What?" he asked. "There's nothing wrong with it."

Ron went back inside and waved his hands around. "But just look at it!" he said. "It's so… so… small!"

He was right. The tent was cramped and dark except for the one lantern Harry had lit. Being tall, Ron had to stoop, and even Harry had to duck down a bit.

"But where's the… where are the beds? Where's the kitchen? And the couches? And the beds?"

Harry laughed. "Ron, these are Muggle tents, you prat! Your dad really wanted to experience this whole camping thing. It's rather small for a Muggle tent, but it's better than my old cupboard. I'm impressed that he got them pitched, though; you remember the fiasco he had at the World Cup." He pressed his lips tightly together the moment he finished speaking; clearly, he remembered the other fiasco that had happened that night, too.

Ron gazed around miserably. So this tiny, itty bitty tent was to be his home for the night. But… "What about sleeping?" he asked abruptly. "How are we supposed to manage that?"

Harry pointed to the bottom of the tent. Two lumpy, maroon sleeping bags were stretched out next to each other. Ron's heart thumped wildly. He would be sleeping next to Harry again. Only this time, they were trapped in a tent. "Right," Ron heard himself say. "We'd better change then."

Harry nodded. He fumbled with his hands for a second, and then Ron heard the sound of a zipper being pulled. Ron felt his face flush. Sure, he and Harry had changed in the same room all year and all summer, but those rooms had been considerably bigger than this tent, and besides, Ron was always able to avert his eyes then without a problem. Now he had to casually shift his gaze to the sleeping bags as he pulled off his own trousers. Once in his shorts, Ron immediately crawled into a sleeping bag and turned his back to Harry. ""Night, mate," he said.

Ron waited to hear Harry say goodnight in return, but instead he heard Harry grunting and struggling with something. He rolled over a bit and saw Harry pulling furiously at the zipper on his sleeping bag.

"Come on… unzip, you little…" The zipper stayed where it was. "Hey, Ron, d'you think you could help me with this? The zipper's stuck."

Ron sat up and leaned over. He pulled on the zipper, but it wouldn't budge.

Harry reached down and firmly grabbed Ron's hands. "Maybe if I help pull…" Ron simply nodded and tried to steady his heart. "Right, then, on the count of three. One… two… thr—oomph!"

Ron's world turned upside down for a moment as the two boys rolled around the tent. When he stopped moving, he felt himself resting on top of something warm and slightly bony. "Harry? You okay?"

Harry stirred under him. "Ow. Yeah. You elbowed me in the chest and knocked me backwards." There was silence for a moment; then, he and Ron began to snigger and chortle and eventually broke out into full laughter. Ron could feel Harry shaking under him as they desperately tried to stop.

"Alright, boys, that's enough!" Mrs. Weasley shouted from somewhere outside the tent. "The cleaning's done and it's time for bed! Now go on, get to sleep!"

Ron finally managed to get his body back under his control when he realized he was definitely still on top of Harry. He was thankful certain other parts of him hadn't yet realized where he was. He quickly pushed himself off and picked up the broken sleeping bag.

"Well, maybe you could just sleep under it or something," Ron suggested after five more minutes of fruitless pulling. "Or on top of it." He glanced warily at the narrow strip of fabric and imagined Harry rolling off of it and onto the cold tent bottom within seconds of falling asleep.

"There is something else," Harry said. He looked over at Ron's sleeping bag. "We could always, um, unzip your whole thing and, er, use it as a quilt. I mean, I'm not saying you have to or anything, it's just a suggestion I… I don't want to make you uncom—I don't want to make you give up yours or anything. Never mind, forget I even said it."

Ron stared through the darkness at Harry's face. Was Harry worried that Ron might try something after last night? He hoped he hadn't destroyed anything with their friendship; he wouldn't be able to bear it. "No, no, it's fine," he finally said. "Here, let me just…"

A few minutes later, Ron lay awkwardly on his back next to Harry with the too-small bag-quilt stretched over them. Outside the tent, the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione were completely still. Inside the tent, Ron didn't know what to do. Should he wait for Harry to fall asleep and then get comfortable? Or should he get comfortable and then make Harry find a good spot? He was saved the trouble of deciding when Harry began to talk.

"Ron?" he whispered. "Can I ask you a question?"

Ron nodded; then, upon realizing that Harry probably couldn't see through the dark without glasses, added, "Mmmhm. Sure."

Harry paused, and then finally said, "Ron… Why was I in your bed this morning?"

Ron felt his breath catch. Finally, here it was, the moment to come clean. The moment to confess, "I love you, Harry; I want to marry you, Harry; wanna shag, Harry?"

"Ron?"

"Oh, I, er… well, you were having a nightmare, mate, and well… you wouldn't wake up… and I didn't know if you would be okay or not, and, er, well, I didn't want to wake up with a dead mate in the next bed, did I? So I brought you over to mine, figured it would be easier for me to keep my eye on you there. I guess we both just fell asleep." Ron held his breath. He hoped this excuse would be good enough.

It seems it was. Harry sighed. "Oh," he said. "I just thought… well, you know, I was worried I had been sleep walking or something. Just checking." He paused again, and then said, "Ron? When you brought me over, did you… Did I… did I get too close? I'm sorry if I did, I mean, I was asleep, I didn't know I was that close, I hope you weren't too hot, I didn't know," he babbled. Ron was vaguely reminded of Hermione when she was in one of her Moods.

"No, it's okay, mate," Ron said. "I was kinda cold, anyway. Besides, I'm sure I was back asleep within seconds anyway. You know me."

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly.

They were silent for some time after that. Ron wasn't really sure how long it was; he heard some owls hooting and a vague rustling from the direction of the twins' tent, but all else was rather still. He was beginning to think that perhaps purple really wasn't such a queer color and maybe it really would look good with his hair and speaking of hair Hermione really did have lots of hair and he wondered if she had hair in other places or if maybe she shaved because you know the twins did seem to know an awful lot about shaving and he wasn't so sure if it was just from shaving their faces because Weasleys never really grew bushy beards except for that time when they crossed the Age Line and oho that was hilarious!—when suddenly he felt the blanket slide off and he was cold again.

"Harry?" he called out softly.

"Mmm?" came the reply.

"'M cold."

"Oh. Here."

Ron waited for the blanket to be sent over his way. Instead, Ron felt a much hotter warmth slowly wrapping around his legs and his chest and—oh, Merlin, Harry had just cuddled up to him.

"Better?" Harry murmured.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. He pulled Harry a little closer and sighed. Too tired to ponder the matter any further, Ron fell asleep.