Post by Ron Weasley on Jan 13, 2010 21:23:33 GMT -5
ooc; Okay. Well, this was an intro for an AU role play where Harry went off on the Horcrux hunt himself and was supposedly killed by Voldemort and the others had to deal with it and whatnot. Take that into context with the way I wrote him here.
Ronald Weasley was not the same.
Ever since the supposed death of his best friend, he’d been the only one admitting defeat. The others all appeared to have taken it better than he had, although he was fairly certain they were all just putting up a front for his sake. As soon as he’d heard the news, he’d written Harry and sent Pigwidgeon off. Despite the fact that his friend had been Dumbledore knows where for the past few months, Pig had always been able to locate him. When the minute owl returned empty-beaked, Ron had taken it as truth. The little bird might have been stupid, but he knew Harry Potter better than anyone.
And so, Ron had yelled, and ranted, and complained about Harry’s self-righteousness of not letting himself and Hermione aid him in his task. He’d broken things and ripped up pictures of the three of them, realized that was stupid and repaired them with Spellotape. The snapshot of himself, Harry, and Hermione on the train at the end of First Year still stared back at him from his bedroom mirror every day.
But Ron Weasley didn’t pretend nothing had happened or put on a brave face. On the contrary, he was quite snappish and surly with most everyone, especially his sister and remaining best friend. Lavender Brown told him it was survivor’s guilt; Ron told her to kindly shut up before he accidentally turned her into a mouse or something in Transfiguration.
The change even extended to his eating habits. Slightly. He still managed to eat three meals a day, but they were considerably smaller. He was currently perched at the Gryffindor table between Seamus and Dean, although he wasn’t paying much attention to their conversation. Instead, he prodded his mashed potatoes with his fork and pushed his plate aside. He looked mostly the same, what with his trademark Weasley red hair and freckles, but there were dark circles almost permanently etched beneath his pale blue eyes. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. And he was, if possible, skinnier than before, having stopped his constant eating habit.
His gaze shifted briefly across the table to Hermione, before letting his eyes find his sister. Ron’s lips pursed in a faint frown and he leaned around Dean to bark at her. “Honestly, Ginny, leave her alone. She’s got enough to deal with without /you/ trying to get her to write your essays, too.” Unfortunately, this was normal behavior for Ron these days. Harry had subdued this natural bite and bitterness, but without him, it had returned with a vengeance. Ron didn’t really know what to do without his best friend. Their trio seemed…lopsided. Without Harry to balance out himself and Hermione, he figured they’d just fall apart eventually. It was inevitable.
Ronald Weasley was not the same.
Ever since the supposed death of his best friend, he’d been the only one admitting defeat. The others all appeared to have taken it better than he had, although he was fairly certain they were all just putting up a front for his sake. As soon as he’d heard the news, he’d written Harry and sent Pigwidgeon off. Despite the fact that his friend had been Dumbledore knows where for the past few months, Pig had always been able to locate him. When the minute owl returned empty-beaked, Ron had taken it as truth. The little bird might have been stupid, but he knew Harry Potter better than anyone.
And so, Ron had yelled, and ranted, and complained about Harry’s self-righteousness of not letting himself and Hermione aid him in his task. He’d broken things and ripped up pictures of the three of them, realized that was stupid and repaired them with Spellotape. The snapshot of himself, Harry, and Hermione on the train at the end of First Year still stared back at him from his bedroom mirror every day.
But Ron Weasley didn’t pretend nothing had happened or put on a brave face. On the contrary, he was quite snappish and surly with most everyone, especially his sister and remaining best friend. Lavender Brown told him it was survivor’s guilt; Ron told her to kindly shut up before he accidentally turned her into a mouse or something in Transfiguration.
The change even extended to his eating habits. Slightly. He still managed to eat three meals a day, but they were considerably smaller. He was currently perched at the Gryffindor table between Seamus and Dean, although he wasn’t paying much attention to their conversation. Instead, he prodded his mashed potatoes with his fork and pushed his plate aside. He looked mostly the same, what with his trademark Weasley red hair and freckles, but there were dark circles almost permanently etched beneath his pale blue eyes. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. And he was, if possible, skinnier than before, having stopped his constant eating habit.
His gaze shifted briefly across the table to Hermione, before letting his eyes find his sister. Ron’s lips pursed in a faint frown and he leaned around Dean to bark at her. “Honestly, Ginny, leave her alone. She’s got enough to deal with without /you/ trying to get her to write your essays, too.” Unfortunately, this was normal behavior for Ron these days. Harry had subdued this natural bite and bitterness, but without him, it had returned with a vengeance. Ron didn’t really know what to do without his best friend. Their trio seemed…lopsided. Without Harry to balance out himself and Hermione, he figured they’d just fall apart eventually. It was inevitable.