Harry Potter Oneshots

touch - r.w.

Ron Weasley loved touch. Well, he loved your touch. If he was near you, he was touching you.

You sat in your common room by the fire with a book in your left hand (a muggle recommendation from Hermione), and Ron's head in your lap on your right side.

By his light snores, you could tell he was fast asleep. The warm fire and your right hand playing with his hair must have lulled him into sleep.

He came knocking on your door not too long before mumbling something along the lines of "tired" and "need'ya" when you opened the door.

Initially, he fell right into your embrace and if it wasn't for you studying dorm mate you would've laid him right into your bed.

So instead you grabbed your book and led him into the common room. Immediately falling onto the couch in front of the fires. His head hit your lap mere seconds after you sat down. His hand coming to your knee to further situate himself.

He had just finished up his quidditch practice for the week and honestly it was showing. At first he told you about it. About how fast he went, about how many scores he blocked.

You hummed in pride as he listed off his achievements of the day. But the more your fingers gently pulled and tugged his hair the more his words slurred and breathing softened.

It broke your heart to wake him up, but it was late and you couldn't sit down here forever. By softly pushing his hair back you leaned down to kiss his forehead and whisper.

"Let's head to bed, Ron." he ran his hand over his face before sitting up.

"What time is it?" He asked. You shrugged as you also weren't quite sure.

Then you nodded your head towards the hall for the girl's dormitories. Grabbed one his hands and you pulled him up. Despite the significant height difference, he managed to wrap his arm around your shoulders and lean on you. No doubt that his eyes were closed again.

You didn't bother knocking on your door. Surely your roommate had gone off to bed now and wouldn't be worrying about who's coming and going.

Slipping through the door, you and Ron headed straight for the bed. Of course, leaving the shoes off to the side of the door.

Before you got the chance to get comfortable, Ron was tugging you towards his chest. Although it was forceful, it was still gentle and loving.

After pulling the blanket up and over your shoulders, you laid your head to where you could hear the soft, steady beat of Ron's heart.