It was my sixth year of Hogwarts before I realised I was truly anonymous. It wasn't like I wasn't noticed, I was. But no one really knew my name. I spent my free time by the lake reading while my peers walked past, laughing with friends over the subject of the latest gossip. I was never even close to being popular, not once. I was a muggle born, thrown in to a world of wands and spells, and with that I studied hard just to get the basics. I wasn't a perfect witch, but at least I was one. I was suddenly a social outcast, and I never really did get the hang of making friends. I wasn't pretty like the girls in my year, and this fact cost me popularity as well as friends. School was a blur of reading, classes and bed, and my life seemed to never change from this routine I was stuck into from the word go, kind of unfairly.

But anyway, it's not like this story is even about me. It's about him. That's why you're interested, isn't it? The name in the title, the boy on the cover. That's who you are here for.

Ron Weasley.

The man.

It's like he tumbled headfirst out of the pages of Witch Weekly through the Hogwarts gates and in to the affections of literally every girl in our year. He can make a girl swoon with the flutter of his ridiculously long eyelashes, or incite a girl fight with a look. He's some sort of god in our year, far too big for his boots, and this is the story of how we killed him.

We're going back a few months now, but it all started when I got a weekend job at Madame Puddifoot's tea shop. Madam Puddifoot was a nice stout woman in her late fifties, and always made sure I had a nice scone to eat in my break. One Saturday in December I was working for a couple of hours and I had my first interaction with Ron. He was sat on a pink and lace covered table, running his hands through his bright red hair. On his wrist was a chunky watch, and if you looked closely the hands were Chudley Cannon players flying around the face, shouting the time every half an hour. He was looking out the window where some third years were pointing and blushing at him. He cockily blew a kiss and they ran away screaming, their pigtails flying behind them as they left footprints in the snow. He was wearing a cool blue long sleeved shirt with brown jeans, and his face was neatly shaven. I could see why so many girls fell over him, and as I walked up to his table, trying hard to move in between the small spaces between seats, I found my heart beating faster than it ever had done before.

"Can I take your order?" I asked. He turned his head to face me and looked me up and down. Urgh. He smiled and held up a hand, which was still lightly tanned from all the hours he played quidditch in the summer.
"Give me a minute, I'm waiting for someone" he said. I smiled at him, curtsied and walked away, turning back when I got to the counter, kicking myself for curtsying. What the hell? Did my brain just completely disconnect? What an idiot.

The ding of the bell signalled a customer, and I knew it was Ron's date arriving.

Romilda Vane walked in to Madame Puddifoots with a slight wiggle in her walk and an extremely short skirt. She was tall, not as tall as Ron but taller than all the other girls, definitely. She had long, curly black hair and was physically dominant and totally scary. She was the captain of the Hogwarts performing arts club, a prefect and she also ran a club for the younger Gryffindor girls in the evenings, teaching them to apply makeup and lure men. It kind of made sense that she'd be with a guy like Ron. He was on the Quidditch team and was a favourite of all the teachers, apart from Snape of course. He could get away and get with anyone he wanted, and he was adored for his incredible cockiness, and she was the queen bee. Fierce, dominating and totally different from me.

Romilda sat down next to Ron and kissed him on the cheek. He grinned and kissed her back, but this time on the lips. I brushed a stray hair back and pushed my ponytail a little higher. Madame Puddifoot, or Elsie, as she allowed me to call her after ten weeks of working there, directed me towards the table, and I reluctantly went, cursing her as I did so.
"Can I get you anything?" I said. Ron and Romilda looked up and Romilda rolled her eyes a little. It was then I noticed that I had a smudge of flour on my shirt. I sighed. Ron shushed Romilda from beginning to speak and began to place both their orders.
"I'll have a black coffee, two sugars with a cheese and onion Panini, and my lady will have a tea, milk, no sugars because she is sweet enough and a Caesar salad please" he said.
"Ok, I'll get that for you" I said, writing the order down on the tiny notebook that was hidden in my apron.
"I love it when you do that" Romilda said as I turned away.

"I love doing that" Ron said, leaning forward to give her a kiss.

The next Saturday I was working again, catering to the many male students wanting to impress a girl by buying them tea. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley's best friend was sat with a girl I think was called Cho, but by the way his date left him with a full glass of chocolate milkshake poured over his face I'd guess he wasn't as good with girls as he thought. Ron Weasley walked through the door, and the bell announced his arrival. I looked at him as he entered. His walk was wide and powerful, and his clingy t-shirt left no one wondering what was beneath it.
"Urgh" the girl who worked with me, Vicky Frobisher groaned. Vicky worked alternate weekends because she was always at Charms Club. She was a nice girl and I found myself liking her even more when she had warmed to me after the first couple of weeks. She was a bit frosty when we first met, but now she regarded me as one of her friends and kept me informed of the gossip.

"Not a fan of our keeper then?" I asked with a smirk, tying my bushy hair back.
"Err, no" she said with a grimace. Her blonde hair was plaited and dangling over her right shoulder, and she began to play with the ends as she leaned back on the counter. Another tingling of the bell meant that Ron's date had arrived, and I looked up from the counter's surface to the door.

I was somewhat surprised, not entirely shocked to find out that not only was Ron Weasley an arrogant idiot, he also appeared to be a cheater as well. This week's date was Lavender Brown, a nice but dumb girl who devoted her free time on stupid causes, such as "more dances for the sixth years" and "more salads at dinner". She pretended to be a vegetarian, but on many occasions at the feasts I'd seen her shovelling chicken on to her plate, sometimes leaving none for anyone else. She was pretty-ish, with a little bit of a pudgy face and long curly hair. She was alright, I guess. Not really his type though. She sat down beside him, stroking his arm as she did so. Vicky rolled her eyes.

"You got this table?" she asked me, well rather told me. It was clear she wanted nothing to do with Ron or his date, and I made a mental note to ask her about it when I got back. I made my way to the table and had the blankest expression on my face as I took this pig's order. I had nothing against Ron until now. That poor, unsuspecting girl.

"What will it be?" I asked.

"Two scones please. And hold the cream" he said, looking straight at Lavender and blanking me. I narrowed my eyes at him. Lavender I knew was a vegan, but Ron... Ron was the guy who just last week had a cheese and onion Panini and the week before a big, hot milky latte. So, on my list of bad qualities Ron Weasley possesses, besides being a cheater, a liar and arrogant, he was now a fake. Lavender cooed at how much he cared for her beliefs as I wrote the order down, my teeth grinding together. I walked back to the counter and put the order through. Vicky was back at the counter, sipping on her ice tea.
"Can you believe that guy?" I asked her, my rage boiling over.
"He's such an idiot" Vicky said. "He's a total player"

I nodded. She was right. Ron Weasley was a pig headed moron who thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. Well he was wrong.

The order came through and I picked it up. Vicky wouldn't even touch it. I took it over and Ron winked at me, looking me up and down. In my head, I was sick. But in my stomach, I was swarming with butterflies.