After Their Falling-Out, Harry Waited Late into the Night-One Sentence Broke Through Ron's Defenses!
The Gryffindor Common Room was utterly silent.
In the fireplace, the last few logs gave faint, dying crackles.
The dancing firelight bathed the whole room in a drowsy, warm red glow.
Harry had not gone back to the dormitory.
He was curled up in the oldest armchair beside the fireplace, hugging a closed copy of Intermediate Transfiguration.
But he had not taken in a single word.
His gaze shifted between the nearly spent embers in the fireplace and the dark entrance to the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories.
His eyes held a stubborn determination to wait.
He had clearly been waiting for a long time.
Several opened Chocolate Frog wrappers lay piled on the little table beside him, like a jumble of incriminating evidence.
On one of the cards, Dumbledore's portrait winked playfully at him.
Harry was using these meaningless little actions to fight his anxiety and the drowsiness that kept washing over him.
Creak-
The Fat Lady's portrait gave a faint, reluctant groan, then slammed shut.
A figure walked in.
Ron.
He dragged his heavy feet like a puppet with all its bones removed.
His hair was a mess, and his robes were covered in dust.
His usually lively face held nothing now but exhaustion and desolation.
Like a lost ghost, he instinctively headed toward the fireplace, craving that last little bit of warmth.
He did not notice Harry in the corner at all.
The warm firelight stroked Harry's eyelids like a gentle hand.
His head sank, little by little.
Just as Ron reached the fireplace, Harry's body suddenly lurched sideways.
Thud!
A dull sound rang out.
He nearly slid out of the armchair.
The noise startled Ron and jolted Harry fully awake.
Ron spun around.
Bleary-eyed and bewildered, Harry braced himself against the chair and sat up