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1. September 1991 - Ties
Ron first noticed it on the train; Harry's tie was knotted weirdly. Of course, he didn't say anything. It was Harry Potter for Merlin's sake. And then he had forgotten about it. He had remembered it during the feast, but right after, the food appeared and it once again slipped from his mind.
They were moving into their new dorm when he remembered. He wanted to smack himself in the face for once again forgetting. That's when he noticed the state of his other roommates ties as well.
He knew Neville, of course, when they were younger their mothers- Er, well his mother and Neville's grandmother, had tea together. Neville's tie was missing, Ron noted. Seamus, Ron learned quickly, was unhinged. Within fifteen minutes of getting to their dorm, he had somehow lit his socks on fire, and since it was hanging around his neck untied, his tie almost caught fire as well. Dean seemed to be sent from Merlin himself, when they were all panicking about the fire, he got a cup of water and put the fire out. And Ron couldn't help but notice how tight his tie was, nearly choking him.
He found it odd how all of them, minus him, were wearing their ties wrong, or weirdly, or not at all. Ron, only being eleven at the time, wasn't very subtle, and just blurted out, "What's up with your guy's' ties?"
The question, that he thought was simple, had the other boys freeze up. Dean stopped folding his clothes. Seamus, who had somehow gotten his hands back on his weird metal box that made fire, stopped playing with it. Harry stopped digging through his trunk for whatever it was he was looking for. And Neville stopped... Petting? His plants.
None of them moved or spoke, until Harry took one for the team, and broke the silence that had quickly become awkward and uncomfortable. "I- Er- I don't know how," Harry said with shame, eyes not moving from his shoes.
Ron didn't know it yet, but he would become friends with a girl named Hermione, who, in a couple years, would inform him that he has the emotional range of a teaspoon, and she would be right. "Why not? My dad taught me... Oh," his words died in his throat as he came to his realization, and his ears turned pink.
Merlin, how could he forget? Harry was a famous orphan. And he knew that something had happened to Neville's parents and they couldn't take care of him. He wasn't sure about Dean and Seamus' situations, but based off their ties, he sure they had the same problem. It was a good possibility that he was the only one in the room with a father, or a present one at least.
"I could teach you how to do it!" The words came out the moment he thought of it.
The other boys picked their heads up. "Really?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Sure! Why not?"
Ron moved to the middle of their room and watched them get their ties. Seamus hesitantly joined him and shyly stood there, Dean and Harry untied theirs and then joined them, Neville got his from his trunk.
He untied his tie and then held it up in demonstration. "Okay. So, first you take the small end," he said, shaking the smaller end of the tie. "And put it over the end. Then, you take the big and and pull it over where the small end is. Then, you pull the big part up so it goes through where your neck is, then, you pull it through the loop you made and tighten it."
Ron looked up from his finished tie to see how they did. None of them had gotten it right, Neville being the only one who got it even remotely close to looking like a tie. Since Harry was right next to him, Ron pulled him closer by his elbow, moving him so he was where Ron just was. Ron then got behind him and wrapped his arms around.
"What're you doing?!" Harry asked, sounding the more relaxed than earlier.
"I'm showing you lot how to tie a tie. It'll be easier this way."
"Watch closely," he instructed as he untied Harry's tie. He made sure everyone was back at the starting point, before redoing Harry's tie, slower this time. He looked around Harry shoulder to see how the other boys did. Neville, being the only one who got it.
Ron walked around Harry, and clapped Neville on the shoulder. "Good!" He said with a smile, Neville blushing under the praise. He had them do it a couple more times, Dean being the one to get it next. And after a couple more tries, Harry got it too. Once the boys were able to successfully tie their ties, went back to unpacking and getting ready for bed. All of them, minus Seamus, who was still struggling with it.
Seamus pulled at his tie with frustration. "I'm gonna set this stupid thing on fire," he said with annoyance. From across the room, Ron heard Neville's squeak of panic. Dean, who just came out of the bathroom, came over. He untied Seamus', admittedly, shitty knot, and adjusted the tie so it was handing evenly from his neck.
"You could always leave it untied, doesn't look to bad. Might get some shite from the professors, but they'll already be after you for burning the tower down." Okay, why was Dean so good at dealing with Seamus?
Seamus looked down at his tie for a moment, and then smiled at Dean. "You're right, I look good like this."
Later, after everyone was finished unpacking, and they were dressed and ready for the beds, the five boys sat in around in the center of the room. Harry offered them all the food he gotten from the trolley, and Seamus showed Ron how to use his fire maker. They talked way past the time they should have. Seamus told them, in passing, about his father leaving after he found out his mum was a witch. Dean revealed that his father, in similar fashion to Harry's, died when Dean was young trying to protect his son and wife from death eaters. Neville told them about how his parents were physically and mentally incapable for caring for him because of something that happened during the war. They all knew what happened to Harry's parents, but he said his aunt and uncle never bothered to teach him anything.
Ron knew he couldn't bring their fathers back, but he knew, even at eleven-years-old, he could do what his father had done for him. That night, Ron decided that he could be there for his friends when they needed a dad, or at least someone who could give dad like advice.
2. December 1992 - Fighting Back
Neville had a bit of a problem when it came to standing up for himself, to put it lightly. The only time Ron had seen him do it, it was in their first year when him, Harry, and Hermione were sneaking out.
It wasn't that Neville made himself an easy target, but he kind of did. Ron didn't want to blame him, but Neville just let people curse him. He needed to learn how to fight back.
Ron was working on his Potions work, or at least trying to, when the portrait door swung open. He was in the common room, so obviously people were walking in and out. He glanced up and sighed, Neville walked in, or more accurately; crawled in.
"What happened to you?" Ron asked as he crossed the room. He helped Neville up, who was struggling because his legs were stuck together. Ron kept a hold of Neville's arm while they walked, or in Neville's case, hopped. Ron helped him onto the couch, and then plopped down next to him.
Neville's face was a slight pink as he played with his hands in his lap. "So," Ron prompted. "What happened?"
"I was coming back from the greenhouses, and older students started hexing me..."
Ron sighed, "For no reason?"
"Well, um, they were talking bad about Harry," Neville admitted quietly. "So I told them that none of it was true."
Ron shook his head, people were saying mean things about Harry, things that were too mean to say about a 12-year-old. And some of the more brash students took to hexing, light hexing, he was Harry Potter, after all, and him and Hermione by association.
"Those arseholes. Did you at least get them back?"
Neville was looking him in the eyes before, but he immediately turned his gaze back to his tightly twisted hands. Ron groaned, "Seriously? You have got to learn how to stand up for yourself."
"How?" Neville sheepishly asked.
"How?" Ron asked incredulously. "What do you mean? You just... Fight back," he thought for a moment, "When the hex wears off, we can practice."
About an hour later, after Ron and Neville did their work together, Neville's legs finally unstuck. And when he got his feeling back in his legs, Ron pulled Neville off the couch and shoved his wand into his hand.
Ron moved about three feet back, and pulled his wand out. For once he was glad that the common room was empty, some how, and Harry and Hermione were off somewhere. "Alright, I'm gonna hex you, and you're going to hex me back. Got it?"
Neville shakily nodded. "Colloshoo!" Ron yelled.
Neville instinctively went to take a step back, but he found that he couldn't. On closer inspection, he realized his feet were stuck to the ground. "C'mon! Hex me back!" Ron called. Neville grimaced, and his wand hand twitched, but he made no move. Ron, although he felt bad about it, sent a stinging hex his way.
"Hey! That hurt!"
Ron felt really bad about hurting his friend, but Neville had to learn somehow. "Good, now hex me back."
Again, Neville made no move to retaliate. "C'mon, Neville!" He yelled angrily, "Hex be back!"
Suddenly, Neville yelled something that Ron wasn't able to hear. "Yes!" He cheered as he hugged Neville, despite the other boys tenseness.
Ron took a step back. "So, what'd you do to me?" Neville's eyes bugged out at the reminder of what he'd done. "Uh, well," he stuttered and gestured to Ron's head. Ron reached a hand up to find his hair, only to be met with a smooth head.
"Ron, I am so sorr-"
"My precious, precious hair," Ron said with a smile.
"I'm sorry, Ro-"
"Oh, no! It's amazing. But, you did scalp me. So, Titillando!"
Neville screamed as he was met with the sensation of a thousand hands tickling him all over. "Ron-! Ha-! Please-! Ahh-! Stop-! AH!"
Ron danced out of Neville's reach and smiled as he fell to the floor. "Sorry what'd you say? I didn't quite get it all."
"You- HA-! Prick," Neville laughed.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Ron laughed along.
The next week, Ron was once again interrupted from his potions work dilemma, this time with Harry, when Neville came in. At first glance, he looked fine, but on closer inspection, Ron saw that Neville's shoes and socks were gone and his toenails were almost a foot long.
"What happened to you?" Harry asked.
"Slytherins," Neville replied, leaving out the part about them saying Harry was the next dark lord in the works.
"Did you at least get them back?" Ron asked, not even bothering to look up.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Neville smile sheepishly. "Well- I, uh. I did, but might have... Missed?"
"You'll get 'em next time, champ."
3. November 1994 - Shaving
It was wrong of Ron to think, considering everything that was going on, but he couldn't stop the thought. Harry's mustache. Sirius Black broke into Hogwarts, and slashed the Fat Lady, but that's all he could think of when he saw Harry and his creepy little mustache.
Okay, so, he knew that was harsh to think, but come on, it was so small and wispy. Like a kitten's whiskers. But, it would be weird if he brought it up unprompted, so he kept it to himself. Or at least he tried too.
One night they were sitting in the almost completely empty common room in old armchairs playing chess, Hermione sat on the nearby couch, reading. Usually, the common room would be nearly full, but in the past two years, Harry had a special way of clearing a room. Last year it was from fear of being "Harry's" next victim, this year from fear of Sirius Black somehow finding out they were close and coming after them as well.
All throughout the game, Ron couldn't help but stare at Harry's peach fuzz. If you got far away enough, you wouldn't see it, but Ron was about a foot away and had a clear view.
Eventually, Harry noticed. "Ron, will you stop? I can't think with you staring at me like that."
"I wasn't staring at you..." Ron trailed off, realizing that he was, in fact, staring. "Okay, maybe I was. But it's not my fault, you're the one who needs to shave off that weird little mustache," Ron grimaced as he realized how harsh his words were.
Hermione put her book down and rubbed her temples, and he was sure he heard her whisper, "Arse." Ron glanced over at Harry, and despite his darker skin, Ron saw that he became a little red. "Sorry, that was too harsh."
"No shite," Hermione murmured.
Harry shyly ran a hand across his cheek. "I need to shave? Do you shave?" He asked quietly.
Ron nodded, most of the boys in their year had started shaving the year before, but Harry was a bit of a late bloomer. "Dad taught me how to last summer, showed me how to do it the muggle way. Did your uncle show you?" He assumed his good-for-nothing uncle hadn't taught him anything, but he tried anyway.
Based off of the way Harry stared at the floor and didn't respond, Ron assumed that his answer was no. "That's alright," his voice shifting into the soft tone he took on whenever he learned new things about the Dursleys. "I can show you."
He glanced at Hermione, just to make sure he did the right thing this time, and was glad to see that she was smiling. "Really?" Harry asked shyly, reminding Ron of when he taught him to tie a tie.
"C'mon, let's go," he said and pulled Harry up. They abandoned their game on the table -and Hermione- and went up the stairs to their dorm.
"Night, 'Mione!" "Goodnight, Hermione!"
"Night, boys!" Hermione called up the stairs.
"What're you two doin'?" Seamus asked as the came into the dorm.
"'M teachin' Harry how to shave. Wanna join us?" Ron asked as they crossed the room.
"Nah, my mum taught me the spell."
"Have it your way," Ron said, and then closed the bedroom door behind him.
Harry stood tensely beside him, while he dug through the bathroom cabinets. "Alright... Here we are!" Ron dropped his razor and shaving cream on the counter.
He grabbed the shaving cream and angled it so Harry could see the label. "This... Is shaving cream."
Harry untensed a small amount, still progress in Ron's book, and rolled his eyes at him. "I know what shaving cream is, Ron."
Ron held his hands up in mock surrender. "Just making sure. But," he picked up his razor, "Do you know what a razor is?"
Harry picked up a towel and threw it at his head, and Ron ducked to avoid it. "Alright, alright, calm down everyone. Gimme your hand."
Ron turned the tap on to warm the water. "So first we get out faces wet. Dad says that makes it easier, or something," Ron explained as he cupped his hand to collect and pat the water onto his face.
Once Harry's face was wet enough, Ron took the can of shaving cream and sprayed some into his palm. He applied it to his cheeks, chin, and most importantly, upper lip. Then, he sprayed some onto Harry's hand. "Make sure to get your upper lip," Ron told Harry while he washed his hands.
Ron handed a razor to Harry, and then picked up his own. He moved his razor to the left side of his face, right by his ear, Harry copying his movements. "You just move your razor down you cheekbone until you get to your chin," he explained as he shaved.
Harry didn't make a move to do it. "C'mon, you can do it." When Harry still stood frozen, Ron gently grabbed his elbow and guided his arm down. "There you go!" He praised, much to Harry's embarrassment.
"Sorry."
"It's fine. Why don't you do the rest of it yourself?"
"Okay."
They finished the left side of their faces with no problem. "Good job. Now we'll do the other side."
This time, they shaved their faces together. It was going fine, until Harry cut his face with a loud, "Ow!" The cut wasn't deep, but like most shaving cuts, a drop of blood appeared. "Shite," Harry muttered.
Ron raised his eyebrow at him. "Last year you broke your arm, but you're complaining about a small cut?" He asked incredulously. But, to be fair when his dad taught him he did the same thing, although he had never broken his arm.
Harry didn't say anything in response, but he did knock his arm into Ron's, who was lucky he wasn't shaving at that moment. Ron ripped off a small tear of toilet paper and stuck it to Harry's cut. "You actually do this? I thought they just did that in the movies."
"Well, I get why the muggles do it, can't have blood runnin' down your face. Dunno why my dad didn't just heal my cut(s) while I was learnin'," Ron paused for a moment to make sure that Harry finished shaving his cheeks, "Now, we rinse our razors, then we can do our chins."
Shaving their chins went easily, no one got any more cuts. Together, they shaved their chins in slow, upward strokes. And Ron showed Harry to avoid his lower lip. They finished with their chins and washed their razors off again. "It's time," Ron said with a grin. "Finally we will all be ridden of your creepy mustache."
Harry groaned, but couldn't help but smile, he agreed the tiniest bit. Ron instructed to pull his lower lip down, and then shave it. And finally, finally, the world was ridden of the evil that was Harry Potter's fuzzy upper lip.
With their faces freshly smooth, and their razors cleaned and dried, Ron held up a small bottle. "All that's left is aftershave."
He made sure to make a big show out of pouring it onto his hands and applying to his face, even though Harry probably knew how to do that. Once his aftershave was fully applied, Ron poured some onto Harry's hand as well. Harry rubbed into his face and hissed, "This stings, I guess Home Alone was right." He hadn't actually seen the whole movie, he had just seen that scene through the slates of his cupboard.
Ron admired them in the mirror. "Look at you!" He said happily. "No creepy mustaches in sight!"
Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Thanks, Ron."
Ron smiled back, "Anytime, mate."
He then wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders as they exited the bathroom. “What’s Home Alone?”
4. November 1995 - Shovel Talk (somewhat)
Ron was not having a good time, not only had his best mate joined the Triwizard Tournament and wouldn't tell how he did it, Dean was dating his sister. He had even had to see them make out with his own eyes.
Even though Ron was mad at Dean, he still had to warn him. Ginny had a, well, in his mothers words, "an energetic personality." But the family knew that just meant mean. He had to get to Dean before he said something stupid to Ginny and got himself hexed, or worse. The poor guy had no idea what could be coming.
Luckily for Ron, the opportunity to talk to Dean presented itself, he went to the common room and saw Dean, no Ginny in sight. Ron quickly crossed the room and sat on the opposite side of the table from Dean. "Heyyy, Dean," he said casually.
Dean skeptically glanced at him. "Hullo, Ron."
"So, uh, Ginny's not here, right?" He asked quietly.
Dean's eyebrows creased together. "No? She's out playing quidditch," he answered with slight confusion.
Ron shakily exhaled. "Thank Merlin. So, now that you're dating her, I thought I ought to talk to you."
Dean gave him an odd look. "Are you giving me the shovel talk?"
"What's that?"
"Well, on TV and stuff-" "What's TV?" Dean sighed and put his quill down. "Never mind, it's something dad's -or other family- tell their daughter's boyfriends. Like, 'You hurt her, I hurt you.'"
Ron flushed at the implication that he was acting like Ginny's dad. "What- No, I was just gonna warn you."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Warn me? About what?"
"Yes!" He exclaimed, ignoring the side eyes he got from the people around them. "She can get very mean when she's mad."
"You're scared of your little sister? You're like a foot taller than her!" Dean laughed.
"Height means nothing when she's mad at you," Ron said seriously. "She knows way too many jinxes and hexes, how does she remember them all?" Ron asked with a shudder, memory's of her attacking him for anything from not letting her play quidditch with him, to eating the last bread roll.
The portrait door swung open, but Ron barely noticed. "Just don't get on her bad side, trust me, Ginny can be very cruel."
"What?!" Ron froze, and his face went pale. He slowly, very slowly, turned in his seat to face her.
"Ginny! My favorite sister, I didn't mean that, you know that." Ginny just stood there and continued to look at him, he grew desperate. "I'm your older brother! I'm like, a foot taller than you, you shouldn't be threatening me!" Despite the fact that she had only said one word at that point.
Ginny leaned her broom against the wall and pulled her wand from her pocket. "Ginny, no. Don't, please."
"You've got three seconds."
"Three seconds? For what?" He looked at Dean with urgency. "For what?!" Dean just shrugged in response, an amused smile on his face.
"3." A bead of sweat ran down his forehead, and he grabbed for his wand.
"2." SHITE HE LEFT HIS WAND IN THE DORM.
"Ginny, c'mon, you don't have to do this," he said desperately. "1."
Ron let a very unmanly squeal as Ginny lunged at him. He ducked under her arm and she chased him all around the common room. Ron grabbed at a pillow and held it up in front of him in defense. At one point Ginny was chasing him around the couch, like a cat and dog. He knew that she was waiting until she caught him, or he gave up, to hex him, it probably made it more fun for her.
"Dean! Help me!" He yelled at Dean.
She threw a terrifying look at Dean, who immediately froze, and momentarily pointed her wand at him. "Do not help him."
While Ginny was distracted, Ron took his opportunity and ran up the steps to his dorm. Ginny cursed and chased after him. "What the bloody hell?! Why can she come up the steps?!" Ron yelled.
Ron was able to get into his dorm, but Ginny stopped him from closing the door, and forced her way in. Dean wondered what to do when he heard something heavy crash, most likely knocked, or pushed, over, followed by yelling and cursing.
"Uh, should we do something?" A third year asked.
Dean shrugged. "No-?"
A moment later, Ginny came down the stairs with a triumphant look. She sauntered over to where Dean was siting and pecked him on the cheek. "Gonna hang with Luna, don't wait up," and with that, she was gone as fast as she came.
Dean waited a couple minutes, just to make sure Ginny wasn't going to come back anytime soon. He packed his stuff up and headed up to the dorm. The door was left hanging on two hinges, okay, seriously, what the fuck. Dean found that it was Ron's dresser that made the loud crashing noise, and his bed hangings were in tatters. It was only Ron's stuff that was destroyed, the rest of the room was fine. But, Ron was nowhere to be found.
Then, the bathroom squeaked open, and Dean couldn't help himself from laughing. Ron had an actual pumpkin over his head.
Ron pointed a finger at him, or at least tried to, he was about a foot off. "Don't you dare laugh at me, young man."
The two boys headed to the hospital wing, Ron, so he could get the pumpkin off his head, Dean, because he had to lead Ron, and he claimed to have busted a gut from laughing.
A couple weeks later, Dean came back to the dorm from his date with Ginny, sporting bright green hair. "What'd you do?" Ron asked with a laugh.
Dean looked down sheepishly. "I said that the Holyhead Harpies aren't that good."
"Wow, I dunno how you're still alive after that. What'd I tell you? Never get on her bad side. Luckily for you, I know how to fix this. She did the same thing to me when I reminded her about the poem she wrote for Harry."
"That was her?" Harry asked.
5. April 1997 - Asking a “Girl” Out
Seamus and Ron weren't not on speaking terms, they just didn't go out of their way to talk to each other. Despite Seamus apologizing for how he acted the year before, Ron was still a bit mad at him. He was a bit of hypocrite, having also called Harry a liar. But, Ron had come to his sense before Harry watched Cedric die and You-Know-Who come back. Harry didn't have nightmares every night just for people to think he's crazy and a liar.
He was alone in the dorm, Harry was with Snape working on Occlumency, Hermione was off in the library, and Ron had no idea where Neville and Dean were, where he was suddenly interrupted from doing nothing when Seamus barged in. Seamus didn't even look annoyed to see Ron, in fact, he looked relieved.
Seamus hesitantly approached him. "I- Uh, I need your help."
Ron scoffed, "Why should I help you? Remember how you acted last year?"
Seamus at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "And I've apologized to Harry for that. If he can forgive me, why can't you?"
"Harry will forgive anyone who apologizes to him. And, I have forgiven you, I still think you're an arse, though."
Seamus shrugged. "That fair. Will you help me now?"
Ron thought it over for a moment, if Seamus needed his help that bad, it was probably something important. "Fine."
"How do... How do you ask someone out?" Seamus asked quietly.
"Seamus, we're sixteen, you've never asked a girl out? And why are you asking me?"
"Well, I've asked girls to dance, but that was like, two years ago, I've never asked someone to go on a date. Any date I've gone on is 'cause she asked me," Seamus explained shyly. "And even though I've apologized to Harry, it'd be too weird to ask him. No offense to Neville, but I don't think he knows much more than me. That left you."
Ron had no advice from his father to off of, his dad never told him anything, and he was to embarrassed to ask. And, the one time Ron had asked about girls, his dad started talking about how he asked his mom out, and Ron immediately refused to listen and started fake gagging.
He just went with what he wished someone told him. "Uh, do it in private," he said finally, grimacing at the reminder of the Fleur fiasco, when he got rejected in front of all her friends, and his friends.
And he would never let Seamus, no matter how mad at him he would be, let him embarrass himself like that. "And, no fire, no explosives, nothing that could get you a detention," he added after thinking about who he was talking too.
Seamus frowned. "Oh, I was thinking about spelling their name with fire. Thought he- she, she would like that."
Ron didn't notice the slip up, to focused on how glad he was that Seamus came to him before burning the castle down trying to ask someone out.
"Of course you were. But do not do that. Maybe you could send her a note durin' dinner, asking her to walk around the grounds? 'Mione's always goin' on about how nice the sunset is or whatever."
Seamus thought for a moment. "Okay, thanks," he said, and then hurried out the room.
A week later, and Seamus still hadn't gotten back to Ron. But, he did notice when Seamus disappeared from dinner early, something he never did, and came back to the dorm a couple hours later with a soft smile. Ron didn't even notice that Dean was also missing. Eventually, though, Ron forgot about their conversation.
About a month after their talk, Neville, Harry, and Ron were coming back to their dorm from their night astrology class, something Dean and Seamus opted out of. Ron pulled the door open, then immediately slammed it shut. At least it succeeded in waking them up all the way, Neville shooting up from where he was tiredly leaning against the wall.
Harry rubbed his eyes. "What?" He asked with a yawn.
Ron shuddered and resisted the urge to gag. "I just saw... Dean and Seamus..." He trailed off, unable to continue.
"What about 'em?" Neville asked.
"No!" Harry gasped suddenly. "Really?" Ron sullenly nodded in response.
"Wha- Oh! I'm surprised we haven't walked in on them earlier, they've been dating for like a month."
"What?!"
"Just last week I was complaining to you guys about how I walked in on them making out, again."
"Oh," Harry gasped. "I thought you said making up, and I was really confused."
"But, the girl Seamus was asking about," Ron muttered to himself.
"Seriously, Ron? The 'girl' Seamus was talking about was obviously Dean," Harry said with an eye roll.
“Oh.”
Ron really, really hated the thought that popped into his head, but he had to make sure. "Close your eyes," he instructed Neville and Harry.
"Wha- Why?
He screwed his eyes shut, and despite Harry's protests, opened the door. "You guys... are being... safe. Right?" He called into the room.
"Ew!" Dean exclaimed.
"Get out, Ron!" Seamus yelled at him.
Ron slammed the door closed again. And, upon seeing Neville's and Harry's looks at him, he asked, "What?"
"What was that?! Why'd you open the door?" Neville asked.
"I had to make sure they're being safe. We don't want one of 'em gettin' pregnant."
"Get out, Ron," Harry deadpanned.