Character: Ron Weasley
Warning: Major character death
Disclaimer: JKR owns. I only play. You do not sue.
Length: 600 words
Summary: You were friends from the first day, that first ride aboard the Hogwarts Express, filled with Chocolate Frogs and hopeful expectations.
Beta: None. Read at your own risk.
Note: Originally written for a challenge at hogwarts_elite. Second-place winner, ~600 words. This was my first experimental foray into second-person POV.
Concrit: Always welcome and appreciated.
You were friends from the first day, that first ride aboard the Hogwarts Express, filled with Chocolate Frogs and hopeful expectations.
You were awed at first, then a bit miffed, then slightly resentful, then outright jealous. He strides through life like there is nothing to lose and sometimes you wonder if anyone would know your name if you weren't his friend.
You never forget the dragon, though, and every time you feel a bitter pang, you think about him weaving and swooping around the Hungarian Horntail. Since the dragon, you've become even more fierce in your loyalty. Hermione never wavered and so you defend his decisions no matter what she says, even though privately you agree with her.
The truth is that you are deeply ashamed of the way you acted when his name came out of that Goblet. You don't think you'll ever stop feeling ashamed, because he shares everything important with you, doesn't he?
Not to say that he's a saint for a friend, of course -- he practically ignored your first moment of glory that was not reflected off him. You feel a bit slighted when you think that Hagrid had been more important to him than you. Then he lost Sirius and he's withdrawn and detached now. You can't help but feel cheated and your dreams are filled with fire-belching dragons and his accusing stare.
Hermione says he's grown out of the friendship. She says he needs a peer, not a sidekick; she probably mistakes your indignation for disappointment because she keeps prattling like she didn't just destroy you.
You're not a sidekick, nor are you a toy to be kicked aside. He may have fought dragons but he's never fought them for you; this is probably the main difference between you -- he does everything for himself, for his principles, his convenience. Even under the lake, he left you and fought to save the others -- even though you were the thing he'd miss the most, he did not hurry with making sure he didn't have to miss you.
You do everything for him -- from agreeing to fudge your Divination homework, through fighting Slytherin thugs to clear a path for him, to waiting up for him despite being extremely tired.
Still, resentment refuses to build because it's dragons, dragons in your mind -- red and green and jet-black ones, scales glistening in the dying sun.
One day he wants to go out flying, just for a spot of fun -- you have to talk to McGonagall so you ask him to wait for you. He does, or so it seems until you find out the next day that he spent the time flying -- with Zacharias Smith and Terry Boot.
You are not sure why that bothers you, but at the same time you feel strange validation -- he knew you wanted to go flying and he didn't deny you that, despite demanding instant gratification for himself anyway.
You're almost sure you are the only one for whom he'll put aside his personal wishes, though you can't help but wonder how far that can go. Regardless, it's a warm thought; you realise that more than anything, this defines your friendship -- there is a line where you end and he begins and that's where the friendship ends, too.
So when they bury him after the final fight, to which you were not invited, you decline to be interviewed as his best friend.
"I was not his sidekick," you say calmly. "I'm not interested in glory in his name."