The scent of the food certainly did it's job. Caught up in dreams of Quidditch and magical dancing ice cream cones that circled the goals every time he blocked a shot, Ron found himself being tempted out of the dreamworld he'd been lost in by a sudden poke of a smell. It wasn't ice cream. Ron knew the smell of ice cream - there was a sweet, sugary scent to it. This was different. It was more like the ice cream cone, but stronger. Strong enough so that, when Ron twisted his broom to the side to block an incoming shot, he lost his footing and fell...straight into being awake. Blinking, Ron rubbed at his eyes and groaned. Brilliant. He'd been having a dream about Quidditch and food and now he was going to have to go back to sleep and probably wake up feeling miserable about how he couldn't play Quidditch anymore. Not here, in this world of Muggles and angel shaped things that were more prat than something worth being worshiped over. Ron flopped onto his stomach and covered his head with his pillow. Then, slightly confused, he slid the pillow off his head and rolled onto his back again.
Food. Ron smelled food. And it wasn't magical flying ice cream cone type of food either. It was something else. Something much more real and possibly even more brilliant. Swinging his legs over the side of Steph's bed - Ron blinked in confusion at that, seeing as for a moment he actually forgot where he was - then tiredly walked out into the kitchen. Hand rubbing at the back of his sloppy hair, Ron found the doorway and stepped through it, blue eyes spotting Steph.
She was cooking. And whatever she was cooking? Smelled amazing.
"G'morning," Ron said sleepily, stretching slightly.