Shoving his hands into his pockets, Ron gave a half grunt/half hello in way of greeting. "It's bloody cold outside," he said and with that, turned and walked into the Broomsticks. He didn't know why Harry wanted to spend time with him. Ron didn't think he mattered much to his friends anymore. Not with how they were blaming him for everything.
Of course it was his fault. Everything was always Ron's fault. After a few years being the one who always got blamed for anything that went wrong, Ron was really use to it.
Ron found a table and sat down, ordering two ales and paying for them before Harry could.