Who: Harry and Ron When: Saturday Night Where: Ron's Dorm What: Probably a fight.
And I'm the one you can never trust 'cause wounds are ways to reveal us And yeah I could have tried and devoted my life to both of us But what a waste of my time when the world we have is
They couldn't understand. Hermione and Harry couldn't understand what he was trying to do. It wasn't about them. Not everything had to be about them. Everyone talked about what Harry had done. Everyone knew how brilliant Hermione was. They didn't have to worry like he did. They weren't forgotten. And Ron couldn't handle the idea of being forgotten for the rest of his life. He was important too. He knew how to help and he knew how to plan, but no one ever cared about the man who made the plans. No one remembered him.
He had to be something more. He had to be something better than what he was and he had to show them all that he could be impressive. It's what had lured him towards the restricted section and those old dusty texts. All the magic inside spoke to Ron. He could have power and he could stand apart from everyone else. Everything he had ever wanted was contained in those books.
Leith had just happened across Ron one day. And after talking to the older wizard, Ron had learned so much. The things Leith knew amazed Ron and he couldn't see what was happening. He didn't see how he was changing. The dark magic he was learning had started to take over and Ron didn't know his emotions were slowly shutting off.
Until it occurred to him that he was very much alone. But that wasn't his fault. They didn't want to see him. They were both too busy for him. They had other things to worry about that stupid Ron. It was their fault, not his. And he wasn't wrong. Of course they thought he was. They both always thought Ron was wrong.
A small voice in Ron's head told him that he needed to talk to Harry. He needed to fix their friendship and forget about everything, but Ron ignored it. Instead he decided he needed to convince Harry he was sorry for how he'd been acting and get his friend to trust him. That was his plan.
Ron sat on his bed, flipping through an old Quidditch magazine he'd read at least twenty times. The next post drop really needed to get here. When the door to his dorm open, Ron looked up to see his friend. "Hey," he said.