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Ron woke in darkness to an odd feeling in his chest. In reality, the feeling wasn't so odd as he had grown quite use to it over the years, especially after his first year at Hogwarts. It had started early in his childhood, a feeling of wrongness that would grow until he sought out the source. As usual, this time would be no different. Ron glanced through the crack in his [bedpost drapes] and caught sight of Harry's bare mattress, the comforter pooled on the floor. Ron quickly rolled over and tightly shut his eyes. "Why should I get up at this godforsaken hour? And for what? My so called "friend" who couldn't bothered to include me in one of his greatest stunts yet? Who constantly stood at the center of Hogwarts fame while leaving his "best mate" by the wayside after everything that I did for him? Fuck, let him deal with his bullshit by himself." Ron thought, his face growing hot. But even as he stewed, Ron knew he couldn't stay put. With a groan of frustration, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and wrapped himself up in his blanket. The stone felt cold beneath his feet as shuffled to light his lamp before squeezing between his desk and Harry's dresser.
Ron sat silently for a moment, watching the shadows from the candlelight above him dance before quietly knocking twice on dresser beside him. A simmer began to brew in his stomach as the seconds passed by with no reply[in silence]. "Of course he wouldn't respond." Ron thought bitterly. "He doesn't want you around anyway." He knocked twice again, letting the wood vibrate beneath his knuckles. "Bloody hell, why am I even doing this for such a prick?" He was on the verge of giving up on the whole ordeal and huffing back to bed when he heard his reply. A pair of weak knocks echoed from within the dresser, causing Ron to release the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He replied with another knock and felt himself relax a bit, resting his head on the wooden paneling. Bad night. He began to make himself more comfortable, preparing himself for what could turn into a couple hours bundled up on the dormitory floor.
Ron began to recall the first time this had happened. It had been early in their first year, before magical stones and dark wizards, killer snakes and escaped prisoners. Ron had been much smaller then, able to easily fold himself in the space between his desk and the dresser. When he had first woken to the odd feeling and Harry's empty bed, he had panicked. If he hadn't heard the small whimpers coming from the dresser doors, Ron would have probably ended up yelling out Harry's name while tearing apart Gryffindor tower, thoroughly convinced another troll had broken in and taken him with that sorry bloke's luck. But instead Ron found himself shocked, quietly knocking on the cabinet door while whispering, "Harry, are you in there?" Ron had only knocks in reply and that's how it all began. Ron situated himself on the floor and spent nearly an hour in silence, only broken by the shared knocking between the two boys. Eventually Harry stepped out, looking small and terrified, far from the brave best friend Ron had grown to admire over the months they had gotten to know each other. Ron had hugged him then before they had shuffled back to bed without exchanging a word. After that, it had become a sort of ritual between the two friends, they're secret twilight knocking sessions on those nights when the world was wrong and odd.
Although this night was different, where Ron knocked twice and Harry gave his final knock and shakily climbed out of the dresser without so much as a glance in the other's direction, Ron knew he'd do it all again the next time. Even as Harry wrapped himself tightly in his sheet and curled up on his bed with his back to his best friend, Ron knew he'd still pick up the comforter from the floor and carefully lay it over the bloke he was so frustrated with. And even as Ron silently fumed at the bedpost next to him, he knew he'd still wait until Harry's breathing grew even before getting up to blow out his wick before getting some proper rest himself. Because some things will never change.