Insomnia

Two a.m. and Harry was awake again. Why couldn’t he sleep? This was the third night that he’d woken up in the early hours and he was getting really fed up of it. He lay there for a while, his mind going through the day’s events, planning Quidditch moves (replaying the best ones), listening to the other boys snoring and breathing. It was usually Ron making the most noise, that boy snored louder than any of them, but he was quiet tonight. Harry briefly contemplated opening the curtains of his four-poster to check that Ron was okay, that he wasn’t suffocating or something, but he didn’t. Ron had probably gone to the bathroom, or was just having a nice dream.
Eventually, he started to feel sleepy again and was just thinking that he had Charms first thing and he had already finished his homework. He smiled and snuggled further down into his bed when he heard a strangled sob coming from Ron’s bed. He was awake again in an instant, Ron was choking! He ripped the curtains open to check whether his friend was all right.
The moon was nearly full, and sent beautiful silvery rays through the window panes, illuminating the room with a lovely glow. The moonbeams shone full on Ron’s bed and through his open curtains, Harry saw all this in the split second before he saw what Ron was really doing.
He let out a gasp and Ron, who had been sitting on the end of his bed, looked up horrified – hastily grabbing the quilt to cover himself and then pulling the curtains shut.
Harry smiled, despite his shock, and got back into bed then. The night was so quiet, he could hear Ron breathing heavily, trying really hard to make it seem like he was asleep. Harry knew that tomorrow morning Ron would make a big show of being so heavily asleep last night, that he remembered nothing.
Harry would play along, he knew, but he didn’t know what to make of the stirring going on in his pyjamas. He listened to Ron’s breath going in and out of his mouth, rushing over those full, pink lips… Harry was aware that he was touching himself and thinking of Ron’s lips. He sat up with a start, making the bed springs creak; he heard Ron’s breathing stop, as if he was listening. Harry lied back down and pulled the quilts over him, it was too late in the night for this, he would think about it tomorrow. Yes, that would be best.