Al/Ginny/Harry
Al wasn't sleeping, really. He had trouble staying asleep in unfamiliar places longer than an hour unless he had books which he did not. Newspapers were a good substitute, though. Al even used one as a cover. If folded right, it rustled just as much as a starched sheet and smelled of ink. Almost like books...
"Huhwhat?" Al looked around, bleary-eyed. "M'not sleeping, m'just resting my eyes..."
His glasses slid sideways across his face and Al had to fix them to the correct position on his nose. He peered at the bed...
Jamie? Mum? Wait, dad's talking! And moving!
Al beamed almost as wide as the frames of his glasses stretched across his face. "Dad!"
He jumped up and strode over to the bed. "Safe. Want me to find him? I can find him." And then the healer. Both healers, he began making a mental list.