rweasley_ep (rweasley_ep) wrote in patronus_rpg,

  • Mood:

Not Alone.

Where: Hogwarts grounds.

When: Late afternoon.

Who: Ron Weasley

Why: Because Ron needs to think, and then be interrupted before he thinks too much and starts to panic.

It felt like months since he'd been alone, but in reality Ron Weasley knew that it had only been a couple of days. Still, time like this was rare these days, and so he protected his right to it with a ferocity that surprised even him.

Flopping down onto the ground cross-legged beneath a sweeping maple tree, he closed his eyes and lifted the steaming mug of tea that he'd brought with him to his lips. There was also some random paperback lying in the grass beside his knee, but he had no intention of reading it. He'd brought it mainly for appearance purposes, so that he could lift it in front of his face and pretend to not hear if someone called his name from across the grounds or tried to talk to him.

The shade under the tree was cool, and with a rapidly-approaching twist in his stomach he watched the happy hordes of Hogwarts students mill across the grounds, classes almost over for the day. The gentle, barely-there touch of the book's edge against his knee was somehow comforting, and he took a deep breath as he swallowed his next sip of hot tea. He felt conflicted-part of him wanted desperately for someone to stop by, to come talk to him before he kept on with this dangerous habit of thinking quietly. These days, Ron tried to avoid thinking too much as much as possible. And as much as he was aware Hermione would have made some teasing jab about his brain power based on that, it was the truth. Every time he started thinking too deeply, he started to panic. Part of him still hadn't quite accepted everything he'd been through in the past six years, and all of him was afraid to. Once he faced it, dealt with it, he'd be changed forever. He knew this, and wasn't ready for it.

Part of him too, blamed Harry completely. It wasn't until he'd met him that all of this bloody pain and blood and chaos had flooded into his life. Before Harry, he'd been poor but happy, ignored but loved at the same time. Now, everything was different.

Of course, he also understood that none of what had happened to them was Harry's fault. Harry was his best friend, the best friend he'd ever had, and he loved him like a brother. Harry was kind and smart and funny and loyal and had saved his life on numerous occasions...

He ruined your life.

Ron shook his head, forcing the vicious thought from his mind. He was quite aware that a tiny sliver of him would always resent Harry for who he was and who he wasn't, but that wasn't going to change how much he loved him either.

Leaning back against the tree's thick, solid trunk, Ron closed his eyes.

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