He slept. With his arm across Gloria's middle and his body pressed against the length of her far too thin one, his own blanket wrapped about him. He slept. 

At least he did until he heard a harsh whisper interrupting his sleep. It took him a second sound of his name before he was realizing that the voice was actually for him. And then it all registered and he worked his now dry mouth as he gave a groan of disinterest in moving. But, Pomfrey was nothing if not irritatingly irritating as she was making him get to his feet.

"I's asleep," he mumbled, unsure as to just why she was so upset over things. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He'd been checking to see how Gloria was, that's all. He kept glancing back at Gloria as they got further from her and when she got him back into his own cot, he wasn't in the least bit happy. And it wasn't like there were people in the three beds between him and Gloria!

He wasn't even aware that Prim had been admitted. Yet. 

Entirely unconcerned about the ache that was still so prominent in his muscles and the chills that had started to race over him again on the short walk to his bed, he tried to keep his eyes on Gloria. "Do you know wha," he started, a cough interrupting his words. But he shook his head when Pomfrey tried to tuck him in, grabbing at her arm and holding on until he could speak again. "What does she have?" he spat out, managing the question just before he coughed again.

That he had the same thing Gloria had didn't even occur to him. He, clearly, must have a cold. A bad cold, but nothing too worrisome. You could get a cold when you didn't get enough sleep.