He Thinks I'm Sleeping

He Thinks I'm Sleeping

Written tonight, actually, as a product of late-night insomnia, shamelessly un-beta'd, brought about by the rumblings of plot bunnies long dormant in Misao's brain.

Tentatively part of a drabble series which will tentatively be a collection of all those bunnies that can't be spun into stories of their own.

By the way, for maximum enjoyment, listen to the song that I plugged into this monster while you read this, or after you read it, or whenever, because it is exactly what went through my head when I dreamed this scene.

Enjoy.

~Misao

I can't do the walk
I can't do the talk
I can't be your friend
Unless I pretend

So give me the song and I'll sing it like I mean it
So give me the words and I'll say them like I mean it

Cause you got my heart in a headlock
You stopped the blood and made my head soft
And God knows
You've got me sewn…

~Sewn by The Feeling

He thinks I'm sleeping. He always does. He'll never catch on; that's just how he is.

It's always just after Ron's fallen asleep. Sleep comes fast and deep to Ron, bringing more than abundant snoring with it. Harry usually makes it a point for all of us to get enough sleep. Lately, our days have been long and weary, punctuated by long, drawn-out searches and nerve-wracking raids that never yield a thing.

And so he makes Ron sleep. Because he knows in the morning, he'll need it. I know I'll need it too. But I can't for the life of me fall asleep. There's too much going on these days, too many things to worry about. There's a catalog in my mind that's constantly adding pages, and half the time I'm worried that if my full attention isn't on the pages, they'll fall into nothing and take all their words with them.

Harry doesn't know this. He thinks the both of us, Ron and I - he thinks we can still sleep.

And so he continues. Just after Ron's tell-tale snoring begins, he also begins. I'm always awake, lying there on my side with my eyelids perfectly shut. Long ago I mastered the art of faking sleep.

I don't know if I should ever tell him that I know. I don't know if I want to.

He comes quietly, doing his best to keep things silent. Over Ron's snores I can hear his bed shifting, his feet padding softly on the ground, wherever we are. Brilliant boy that he is, I don't think he's ever figured out that a simple levitation spell would be softer.

He walks to where I'm “sleeping”. Ron's snores are cover enough in his eyes. I can feel him by me, his presence there, his heat just barely.

I can feel him shift. His hand comes out and gently, so gently, rests on my arm.

His hand is always just barely warm. I have to strain to feel him there, but he's there, real and solid, just like always.

Then it comes, lighter than a whisper. “I love you, Hermione.”

This is the most dangerous part. My pulse always quickens; my cheeks always flush. My arms and legs suddenly grow twitchy and I have to fight the urge to move.

I can never pinpoint the exact moment his hand leaves my arm. All I can feel is when he sits back on his heels, his presence receding, his warmth completely gone.

“I love you,” it comes again. “You'll never know.”

My eyes always open here. I can't help it. I can't, I can't. I know what would happen if he saw me, but I can't.

The next indication of his movement I get is the rustle of his sheets as he gets back in bed.

And then it's over, and we are lying there awake with Ron's snores filling the room. My cheeks are flustered and I can feel my heart in my ears waiting, wishing, watching for the next night to come, when he'll do it again.

A/N: To make things clear, this is NOT an affairfic. Ron and Hermione are NOT married. Although the thought of Harry sneaking up to her in her marriage bed and doing this is delicious, it is NOT an affairfic.

Rather, in my head it is set during 7^th year, and Ron and Hermione are just sleeping near each other in separate beds as per Ron's request.

Interpret how you wish. This thing is intentionally written vaguely.

Reviews are what authors live on. I'm not even kidding. You don't realize how uplifting a review is until you lose sleep chasing a rabid plot like this one and finally pin it to paper, only to have it largely ignored by all of Portkey.

Thanks so much,

Sleep-deprived!Misao

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