Pairings/Characters: Hint of R/Hr, H/Hr
Length: just over 1000 words
Summary: Ron becomes philosophical; set summer of 7th year
Authors Notes: This "assignment" was a challenge I gave myself. Although I don't profess to be a writer, I have recently enjoyed dabbling in the idea of putting words down on "paper", so to speak. This has been quite the challenge for me due to circumstances in real life, the prompt being quite ironic, actually.
I want to thank my friends crikkita, copper_beech, leftsockarchive, thetreacletart, and my newest acquaintance, le_calmer_geant for cheering me on, and for their input in this little drabble.
A HUGE "Thank You" goes to my lovely beta, jaceyevans, who went over this for me in the last second. Although I must admit to adding a bit more to it so any additional errors are all mine.
And, lastly, mad_maudlin, for her patience.
Ronald Weasley had just gone to bed, and was trying to get some sleep. Tomorrow morning he would be leaving the Burrow, probably for good, and his mind was racing.
He had this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't remember when it had started but he'd been feeling like this for a few weeks, and it wasn't getting any better.
His stomach growled at him.
As he lay there, he realized that the closer he got to leaving home and heading out with Harry and Hermione on their Horcrux hunt, the more his stomach churned. Nerves, he thought. Yes, he was nervous. He hated to admit it, but he was scared to death about leaving the safety of the Burrow, and not heading to Hogwarts. Not finishing school, but instead trying to find the worst villain in all of wizarding history, with his two best friends, no less. He had no idea how they were going to accomplish this task.
But what bothered him more than nerves were the lies he kept in the process of it all. And the lies that were to remain hidden if something happened to him during this mission, or worse yet, to one of his companions. The lies were starting to take over.
Lies. Ron hated Lies. He hated liars. People who couldn't stand up and tell the truth were cowards in his opinion. He felt that they should have the letter "L" emblazoned on their forehead, so that the world would know what they did. His parents told him, "Just tell the truth and everything will work out". That's how he believed people should behave.
But he was a hypocrite. He lied all the time, from when he was a little boy. He had to, to survive in his family. This kind of lying was justified in his opinion. It wasn't really lying, but more like not telling the whole truth. It was a matter of self- preservation. It was only his family, he kept telling himself. He knew that Ginny and his brothers lied as well. Even his parents lied, in a matter of speaking. They still loved him no matter what, right? So, it really didn't count.
But now it involved other people: his two best friends, and this did not sit well with him, or his stomach. It lurched back up at him again.
Ron had felt like this before, only once, during the Triwizard Tournament. He thought that Harry had lied to him about entering the tournament. He was so infuriated when he heard Harry's name being called out that the betrayal, the lies that he thought Harry had told him, were too much to handle. Instead of thinking it through rationally, he turned his back on Harry when he needed him the most. Bloody hell, if he could take it all back now, he wouldn't think twice about it.
Naturally, Harry turned to Hermione. The only other best friend Harry had. Well, what else did Ron expect him to do? Harry was being sabotaged, by whom no one knew at the time. He was alone, and needed support. Of course Hermione was there for him, as she should have been, as Ron would have expected her to be there for him if he needed her. Naturally, this brought them together. They seemed closer to each other than he felt to either of them sometimes. This bothered him, a lot.
He thought of Hermione, bossy, blunt, opinionated Hermione. She was such a 'know-it- all', so sure of her self all the time. Bloody hell, she did annoy him so. Mainly because she was always right.
As time moved closer to their departure, the harder it was for him to deny his feelings for her. He liked her, a lot. Maybe even loved her. Love? What was he thinking? His rational brain told him, "Of course you do, she is your best friend". But no, this was different. He knew he loved Harry. Harry was and would always be his best mate. Forever. He would do anything for him. Ron almost gave up his life for him first year. But, his love for Harry was different than that for Hermione. It felt different. And now, he didn't know what to do about it.
So he lied. He lied to himself the whole time he was in the corners of the Gryffindor common room snogging Lavender. He lied to Harry, when Harry told Ron about Hermione's crazy behaviour last year. What did he care if she went out with that McLaggen bloke? She could go out with any bloody prat she saw fit. What claims did he have on her? Yeah, none, he thought.
It was also unclear to him how Hermione felt about Harry. She was always so much nicer to him than Ron. She was thrilled when she thought he made Prefect, and almost dejected when she found out it was Ron. Oh, what he wouldn't have done to get a hug like that from her. Her face always lit up when Harry entered the room, but she often gave Ron the cold shoulder. Harry and Hermione seemed to have a certain connection, like soulmates. They always knew what the other was thinking. They would even finish each other's sentences sometimes. This had Ron very confused. What if he told Harry how he felt about Hermione, and Harry confessed that he felt the same way? Or what if he told Harry, and this news somehow jeopardized their mission? He didn't want that to happen. The Horcrux hunt was too big to start having trivial things like emotions get in the way. So he continued to lie. He had become good at it. Why disrupt everything now?
Ron lay in his bed staring at the dark ceiling. He was thinking. No, he wouldn't say anything, at least not now. He'd have to wait. He'd have to continue to lie.
Rolling onto his side, his stomach continued to churn.
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