Ron squeezed his eyes shut, frustrated but trying to focus on what Harry was saying, when there was already this buzzing around his head telling him to just apparate to a bar and get sloshed. Merlin, he wanted that more than he wanted this conversation. “I don’t want you to do anything for me--- I don’t. Fuck I hated that job, but more than that I hated being the two bit wizard whose only fucking accomplishment was being Harry Potter’s sidekick.” Cause that’s what he’d been, hadn’t he? Only getting a job as an Auror because of Harry because even though he’d been good with a wand, apparently he wasn’t good enough for a promotion, or to not almost get himself killed.
“The one good thing I had was Hermione and I fucked that up to. Because thats what the real Ron Weasley does, Harry, he fucks things up. And now you’re with her--- the one girl I’ve ever loved in my entire existence, and it’s just another thing that Harry Potter is better at than me.” Ron wasn’t even looking at Harry anymore, his eyes downcast and staring at a particularly uninteresting spot in the carpet. Merlin, he was fucked. He was fucked up, and hell, maybe he should have just offed himself and saved everyone the trouble.
“I don’t want you to break up with her, I want her to be happy for once, but you can’t possibly for a second expect me to not feel broken and betrayed and miserable.” He stood then, with abrupt, anxious energy and moved to the kitchen, there was bound to be a beer shoved somewhere in the back of the fridge, and he needed it.