When confusions starts... Who: Ron Weasley When: May 20th, 1998 - early evening Where: Outside, by the Quidditch Pitch What: Ron's reaction --and response-- to 'Æolus'' reply. Notes: He is using the enchanted parchment to avoid being caught.
Ron had set the parchment down a moment, picking up the cub and lifting him up higher in his hand until he was at eye level and he grinned again, when the lion reached for his nose. He really was cute, and he hoped he would share him with other people, if only they wouldn't ask him where he got it from. After a time, when he didn't see anything on the paper, he wondered if he had gotten the instructions wrong or---and he couldn't rule out this one-- that the words had driven his admirer away.
He played with his cub for a while until he heard another crinkle of paper and looked back at the words that started to appear, wondering what his admirer was going to say.
At first, he wondered if someone else was writing, because the handwriting that was neatly recognizable to him, was now very messy, choppy, almost like his own at the best of times.
As he read on, not even the knowledge that he had been right about his cub made him feel better.
She had known about Hermione and still wrote him, still went ahead and made him the lion and wrote him the last letter.
Still loved him.
He felt his stomach tightening and his hands got cold. And she kept referring to seeing him and it was driving him bonkers!
When he finished, he sat there reading the words and knew this would be the last he would hear from her. If Harry had been there, he probably would say it was best to leave it at that and let her deal wth the rejection in peace, but it was not a rejection he had wanted to give her, but the truth.
He was at a loss at what to say. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, but what had he been expecting then? For her to accept the news, to say that she respected that and would try and move on, but that she didn't want to lose his friendship anyway? Well--yeah, he had.
Before he even gave himself a chance to gather his thoughts, he picked up the quill and began writing.
I know I should be angry you did that, but I'm not. I don't know how I feel about that yet, but it's not angry. Don't think I'm sitting here resenting you for this, I'm not.
That's it then? I can't return your love and you won't take by friendship? You say I mean this much to you, that you can't stop looking at me everytime you see me, all these words obviously mean something to you, but my friendshiip is not good enough? Is it all or nothing then? Is that what you're saying?
I can't give you what you want, but whatever I can give you, I already am by writing you now.
I'm an idiot for even letting it go on, yes, when I should have told you the truth from the start. Yes, I accept my fault in this. I can't change it, the damage is done.
Reply back or not, but I never thought a Ravenclaw would refuse friendship when offered.
He dropped the quill, hating this, staring at the parchment as the sun was getting ready to go down and soon, he would lose daylight.
Harry was right. He should just let this go. It wasn't worth it.