Sleeping in The Great Hall
"Ron." Cassidy whispered, wrapped in her sleeping bag. In order to keep everyone safe that night, Dumbledore had arranged for all the houses to sleep in the Great Hall.
"What?" Ron hissed back in the dark.
"Both of you, be quiet! Percy will hear us!" Hermione whisper-shouted.
"Sorry, 'Mione." Cassidy whispered guiltily.
A beat of silence.
Cassidy rolled onto her side, trying to get comfortable on the hard floor. "Ron."
"What?"
"You think Black is still here?"
Ron hesitated. "Dunno. Hope not."
"Me too." Cassidy pulled her blanket up to her chin. "Kinda makes you wonder what would've happened if he got in."
Ron shifted beside her. "Don't think about that."
"Okay."
A beat of silence. The Great Hall was filled with quiet murmurs and the occasional loud snore—probably coming from Seamus.
"...You gonna sleep?" Ron whispered.
"Dunno." Cassidy sighed. "This floor is hard as hell."
Ron huffed a quiet laugh. "Least you've got a cozy blanket. Percy said I 'forgot' mine, but I know he took it."
Cassidy snorted. "Your own brother is out to get you."
"He always has been," Ron said solemnly. "If I freeze to death, tell my mum I love her."
Cassidy giggled, then nudged his arm. "Here. I know I could just cast a spell to make some, but I'd get in trouble. Take some of mine." She lifted part of her blanket so he could scoot closer.
Ron hesitated, then shuffled under it with her. It was warm, cozy, a little awkward—but nice.
"...Thanks," he muttered.
"Don't mention it," Cassidy whispered back.
A pause.
They were both wide awake, staring into each other's faces in the moonlight, under one blanket. Ron knew his face must look very red.
"Ron." Cassidy whispered.
"Yeah?" He whispered back, not taking his eyes off hers.
"You're not allowed to hog the blanket. I was just saying, because you're getting fatter and all."
Ron rolled his eyes before playfully punching her.
"Shut up, Cassidy."
"Yeah, yeah, I know you've been down to the kitchens to nick some food."
"Oh yeah? How do you know that?" Ron challenged.
Suddenly, Cassidy reached over to Ron's face, cleaning something from the corner of his mouth slowly with her thumb. Ron's breath hitched, and he looked at her face, deep in concentration. Her thumb trembled slightly before she pulled it away.
"There. There was a smear of icing at the corner of your mouth, you great big gi—"
Cassidy stopped speaking as Ron shifted closer to her, so close that their faces were only inches apart, so close she could count every freckle on his face.
"Have you been painting?" He whispered softly.
"What?"
"Have you been painting?" Ron repeated, motioning to her cheek. Her hand flew up to her cheek to check if there was any paint stain there, but there was none.
"No, why do you ask?"
"You used to say you liked painting when you were younger, and you smell like paint now, so I just wanted to...I wanted to ask." Ron said slowly. Ron felt stupid. He wasn't making any sense. He found it hard to make sense around Cassidy.
Another beat of silence.
"Ron?" Cassidy whispered.
"Hm?"
"I like your freckles."
"You can't just say stuff like that."
"Why?"
"It sounds like you fancy me or something." Ron had grown a bit redder.
"I don't."
"Good. Because I don't either."
"Yeah," Cassidy shifted, still looking at Ron. "Figures. Everyone knows it's Hermione, anyway."
Ron hesitated.
"It is not! Why does everyone think I fancy Hermione?"
"Because you do." Cassidy teased, though there was an edge of something else to her voice.
Ron hesitated, then reached for a stray coil, tucking it back into her bonnet. Her hair was softer than he expected. Cassidy held her breath, and suddenly, Ron couldn't remember why he'd done it. His fingers brushed her cheek for a second too long before he pulled away, his throat dry.
Cassidy stared at how Ron's hands had gotten a little bigger, noticing how his voice had gotten a little deeper since their first year. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself.
"Shut up and go to sleep, yeah?" He muttered. His eyes lingered on her before turning over to sleep. Cassidy bit her lip.
"Ron?"
"What?" He turned back around to face her almost immediately, face a picture of annoyance.
"Let's make a pinky-promise."
"What the bloody hell's a pinky-promise?"
"It's something muggles do. It's like an Unbreakable Vow, but without the dying."
"Muggles are weird."
"I think they're quite fascinating." Cassidy huffed.
"Alright, alright. What do you want to promise?"
"That we'll be best mates forever." Cassidy whispered, winking.
"That's stupid."
"You're stupid."
"Shut up. How do you do this inky-promise, then?"
"Pinky-promise. Like this." Cassidy reached for Ron's hand, warm and freckled. She splayed out his fingers, and twisted her pinky finger around his slowly. Ron felt his heartbeat quicken, and felt the sudden urge to entwine all his fingers with Cassidy's. He shook the thought away.
"Now what?" He whispered shakily.
"Just say, I pinky promise to be best mates with Cassidy Sweet forever."
Ron sighed, and repeated what Cassidy said, though there was a small smile on his face.
"Now, I pinky promise to be best mates with Ronald Weasley forever." Cassidy said, and then grinned at Ron, who smiled back.
"Now you've pinky promised." Cassidy said with a yawn. She snuggled into her pillow, her pinky still linked to Ron's. He didn't draw his away. "Goodnight, 'ickle Ronniekins." She mumbled sleepily, eyes already closed.
"Goodnight, Cass." Ron said. Then before he could stop himself, he entwined the rest of his fingers with hers. She was already fast asleep, breaths quick and shallow. He watched her for a moment, before letting his own eyes close.
Their hands would be linked the whole night, and would stay like that till they woke in the morning.