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It was late by the time Harry made his way back to the Gryffindor dormitory. This had nothing at all to do with his desire to avoid both Ron and Dean, and everything to do with spending as much time with Ginny as physically possible - but he couldn’t deny it was a very happy side effect.
He took a moment to make sure his shirt was properly buttoned again, and tried to flatten his hair in a futile attempt to make it look like he hadn’t spent the past however-many-hours with Ginny in a variety of locations around the school grounds resolutely not discussing the Ravenclaw match.
In the distance, he heard a door open, followed by a chorus of high-pitched squeals that cut off sharply as the door closed again. Clearly Ginny had reached her own dormitory. A soppy grin spread over his face as he thought of her again, no longer needing to imagine the taste of her lips, or the feel of her body pressed close to his. Unfortunately, this thought ensured that he needed to take a few more moments to compose himself before heading into his own dormitory.
When he finally pushed open the door, it was to discover that there was both good news and bad news. The good news was that Neville was already fast asleep, and (even better) neither Dean nor Seamus was there. Quite where they were given it was now well past curfew was a problem for someone else - Harry was perfectly happy to take the win.
The bad news was that Ron was very definitely there, and even more definitely awake. He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, hands behind his head, trying (Harry thought) very hard to look nonchalant.
Ron acknowledged his arrival with a nod. “Evening.”
“Evening,” replied Harry. He paused momentarily, then tried just as hard to look nonchalant as he strolled over to his own bed, and opened his truck to put his cloak back inside. Maybe, he hoped against hope, Ron wasn’t going to say anything else.
“So,” said Ron.
Fuck, thought Harry.
“You and Ginny.”
“Uh huh. Me and Ginny,” replied Harry, hoping that his tone was as light and non-committal as he intended.
“You’re her boyfriend now, then?” asked Ron.
Ron sounded conversational. Unconcerned. Calm. Harry was not fooled, not for one second. He shrugged awkwardly. He closed his trunk, then took as long as humanly possible to locate his pyjamas under his pillow. “Umm. Yeah. I guess so.”
Ron’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know so?” he asked, sharply.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Uh - no, I am,” he scrambled. “I definitely am.”
Ron cocked his head to one side. “Huh.”
Silence. Merciful silence. So why, Harry thought, was he suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to fill it? He fought it as hard as he could but ultimately, failed dismally.
“I mean, I asked her, officially, if that was what she wanted. And she said yes. So… Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. And… I really like her. I have done for ages. I… I’m not just messing about.”
More silence. Ron nodded thoughtfully.
“So are we… y’know, are we still good?” asked Harry, hopefully.
Ron gave him a hard stare. “Well that depends, doesn’t it?”
Harry swallowed hard. “It does?”
Ron’s brows wrinkled. “Yeah. Obviously.”
“Umm… what on?”
Ron looked at him as if he was exceptionally dim. “Harry, come on! She’s my sister! There are rules!”
Harry felt his heart sinking. This was the exact thing that he’d been afraid of, that had held him back for so long. And just when everything seemed to be falling into place. “There are?”
“Yeah. Rules,” confirmed Ron.
Harry couldn’t help himself. It was like he could see the headlights of the approaching lorry, and he just couldn’t seem to get out of the way. “And the rules would be….?”
Ron sighed. “Okay, if you’re going to make me spell it out for you.” He held up his hand, fingers splayed, ready to count them off. “Firstly, you don’t hurt her. Ever. In any way.”
Well that one was straightforward enough. “Got it.”
“Secondly,” counted Ron, “whatever it was that I saw in the common room before, I don’t want to see that ever again.”
Well, that one might be a touch trickier, but he was sure they could be discreet. “Er… Okay?”
“Thirdly,” continued Ron, pointing at his middle finger, “you have to escort her to and from all her classes, carry her bag and her books, serve her at mealtimes, give her your coat if she’s cold, do any shopping she needs. You know, just generally look after her properly.”
Harry frowned. That sounded a bit full on, but even then, it wasn’t so much that he wouldn’t do it, more that he couldn't imagine Ginny letting him. “Er, Ron?” he began.
But Ron wasn’t listening. “Fourthly, you can’t be alone with her at any time. You need a chaperone, permanently.”
Harry blinked, hard. How on earth did Ron think that could possibly ever work? “ What? Ron, I don’t think…” he protested.
Ron just ignored him. “Fifthly, you don’t touch her. Ever. Anywhere. I’ll let you off with the common room thing because we hadn’t talked, but you can’t lay another hand on her. Or any other bit of you, for that matter.”
And at that point, Harry decided he’d had enough. “Oh come on, Ron! This is ridiculous! You can’t really expect…” he began, hotly.
But before he could continue, a horrible strangled noise came from Neville’s bed, making him jump. He jerked his head towards the sound, then realised that Neville was shaking violently under his blankets.
“Oh my god, Ron! I think he’s having a fit!” Harry dashed to Neville’s side, visions of Ron convulsing in Slughorn’s study flashing through his head. Where was he going to get a bezoar this time?
Harry pulled back Neville’s blanket and rolled his friend onto his back. Neville’s face was bright red and screwed up as though he was in pain. Except wait - no, that wasn’t pain, was it? It was… hang on, was it laughter?
Utterly confused, Harry turned to look at Ron, to find that he, too, was now laughing so hard he was practically doubled up with it.
“I’m sorry, Ron,” gasped Neville. “I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. That was brilliant! I don’t know how you kept a straight face.”
“Oh, Harry - your face! It was priceless!” said Ron, tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Neville. I was running out of fingers anyway.”
“You mean… all those rules? You were making them up?” Harry couldn’t decide whether he was furious or relieved.
“We were talking while you were out, about how far Ron thought he could push you,” confessed Neville.
“Well, you just snogged my sister in front of pretty much everyone,” agreed Ron. “I reckoned I deserved a bit of payback.”
“So you’re not pissed off with me?” Harry checked.
Ron shook his head. “Nah. If you’re nuts enough to actually willingly go out with Ginny, I reckon that’s punishment enough.” Then he looked thoughtful. “Though I really would appreciate you keeping the snogging to a minimum while I’m around.”
Finally, relief won out, and Harry’s face split into a grin of his own. “Deal.”