This is a companion piece, of sorts, to It's All Him. This one's
from Ron's POV, which I don't write very often. I'm not sure how this will
turn out, but I feel like giving it a try. Forgive me if Ron gets too
awfully OOC. Once again, there is possible slash in this story. It was
meant to be slashy this time, but it's easily to ignore, if that isn't
something you like.
Harry Potter and its characters belong to Rowling-sama, goddess that she is. I wish I owned the boys, but sadly enough I don't, so I'm coping by writing little fanfics like this. I hope you enjoy this story.
* * *
Potions class. The most horrible part of my day.
Okay, so its probably the most horrible part of everyone's day, unless they're a Slytherin, but my reasons are different than most people's.
Potions class means that I'm forced to spend minute after excruciating minute in a class with you nearby. With a subject I'm not fond of, a teacher I despise…
And nothing to keep my mind occupied besides thinking of you.
Do you remember the day we met? We were just little kids, I don't know why you'd remember. I doubt you do, considering the way you treat me every day…
I wonder if you realize that you were the first friend I ever had that wasn't related to me? My brothers were always great, but they were just that: brothers. We were expected to love each other. To be friends. Just because that's a part of being brothers.
You were the first person I liked simply on your own merits. You had shiny hair a color I'd never seen before. Pale and silver, so unlike the flaming red of my family and myself. And your eyes. So pale, and in the sunshine, I thought they glowed the same color as your hair.
When I first saw you, I thought for a few second that you were one of the angels I'd heard about from Dad. Or maybe some sort of fairy, like the ones I heard about from Mum in my bedtime stories.
It didn't matter to me what you were. You were there, you were nice to me. We played together in the sun. You had such a wonderful broom; I'd never been able to play with one before, not even a toy one. I felt so special.
It was great. I thought it'd last forever. Kids think stupid things like that sometimes, I guess. No concept of time.
It started getting dark, and you looked around the crowd like you were halfway expecting someone to show up. Then a tall man with hair and eyes just like yours showed up. Your dad. I could tell.
He looked so angry, and hit you. You looked so surprised, so hurt. I wanted to hug you and get my dad to take you home with us. Your dad cast a spell first, though, and suddenly you were in the air, and he was trying to take you away. And you didn't do anything.
I didn't know what to do. He was taking away my new playmate, and it wasn't fair! And you looked so sad. I didn't like seeing you sad.
So I threw things at him. Rocks, twigs, handfuls of grass, half- eaten crackers that some of the adults had dropped… Anything I could get my hands on.
I yelled and screamed and cried. Whatever I could think of to get him to stop walking, or to get someone to notice what was happening.
Nobody did anything. You disappeared.
And I fell to the ground and cried. A long time.
Mum and Dad didn't know what was wrong with me.
I didn't know what to tell them.
Once I got older and started to go to Hogwarts, things changed again.
The minute I first saw you again on the Express, I knew who you were. That hair, those eyes. How could I be mistaken?
I had no idea what to do, what to say. So I stayed quiet, pretending that I hadn't noticed, that I hadn't remembered.
Later on, the first day we practiced riding brooms at school, any doubts I had were gone. It was just like when we were kids, only you were in robes, and you were so much further up off the ground…
I watched you fly around, and behind the sneer on your face as you taunted and tortured poor Neville, I thought I saw a little trace of real happiness. But there was nothing I could do, since you got in trouble so quickly. And after that… Well. Between school taking up all my time, and your attitude not really helping any, I just never got the chance to talk to you.
It's been six years since we started attending Hogwarts. Neither of us have said anything about that day when we were so young.
And I hate it. After all the verbal abuse, the prejudiced remarks about 'Mione, the scathing things you've said to Harry, the way you treat anyone that isn't a Slytherin… I hate it all.
I hate you. Your words, your actions, your beauty, everything.
Silver hate.
And I want so badly for you to just remember me, and let things go back to the way they were when we were little, in the sunshine. Who cares what anyone would think. The only ones whose opinions matter are my family, Harry and Hermione, and I think they'd eventually understand. It doesn't matter to me what everyone else would say.
Would it matter to you? Do you really hate me as much as you say? As much as you make it seem? I hope not. I don't want you to hate me.
I just want you to remember the way things were. The way I was, the way you were. Please…
Don't forget me.
Harry Potter and its characters belong to Rowling-sama, goddess that she is. I wish I owned the boys, but sadly enough I don't, so I'm coping by writing little fanfics like this. I hope you enjoy this story.
* * *
Potions class. The most horrible part of my day.
Okay, so its probably the most horrible part of everyone's day, unless they're a Slytherin, but my reasons are different than most people's.
Potions class means that I'm forced to spend minute after excruciating minute in a class with you nearby. With a subject I'm not fond of, a teacher I despise…
And nothing to keep my mind occupied besides thinking of you.
Do you remember the day we met? We were just little kids, I don't know why you'd remember. I doubt you do, considering the way you treat me every day…
I wonder if you realize that you were the first friend I ever had that wasn't related to me? My brothers were always great, but they were just that: brothers. We were expected to love each other. To be friends. Just because that's a part of being brothers.
You were the first person I liked simply on your own merits. You had shiny hair a color I'd never seen before. Pale and silver, so unlike the flaming red of my family and myself. And your eyes. So pale, and in the sunshine, I thought they glowed the same color as your hair.
When I first saw you, I thought for a few second that you were one of the angels I'd heard about from Dad. Or maybe some sort of fairy, like the ones I heard about from Mum in my bedtime stories.
It didn't matter to me what you were. You were there, you were nice to me. We played together in the sun. You had such a wonderful broom; I'd never been able to play with one before, not even a toy one. I felt so special.
It was great. I thought it'd last forever. Kids think stupid things like that sometimes, I guess. No concept of time.
It started getting dark, and you looked around the crowd like you were halfway expecting someone to show up. Then a tall man with hair and eyes just like yours showed up. Your dad. I could tell.
He looked so angry, and hit you. You looked so surprised, so hurt. I wanted to hug you and get my dad to take you home with us. Your dad cast a spell first, though, and suddenly you were in the air, and he was trying to take you away. And you didn't do anything.
I didn't know what to do. He was taking away my new playmate, and it wasn't fair! And you looked so sad. I didn't like seeing you sad.
So I threw things at him. Rocks, twigs, handfuls of grass, half- eaten crackers that some of the adults had dropped… Anything I could get my hands on.
I yelled and screamed and cried. Whatever I could think of to get him to stop walking, or to get someone to notice what was happening.
Nobody did anything. You disappeared.
And I fell to the ground and cried. A long time.
Mum and Dad didn't know what was wrong with me.
I didn't know what to tell them.
Once I got older and started to go to Hogwarts, things changed again.
The minute I first saw you again on the Express, I knew who you were. That hair, those eyes. How could I be mistaken?
I had no idea what to do, what to say. So I stayed quiet, pretending that I hadn't noticed, that I hadn't remembered.
Later on, the first day we practiced riding brooms at school, any doubts I had were gone. It was just like when we were kids, only you were in robes, and you were so much further up off the ground…
I watched you fly around, and behind the sneer on your face as you taunted and tortured poor Neville, I thought I saw a little trace of real happiness. But there was nothing I could do, since you got in trouble so quickly. And after that… Well. Between school taking up all my time, and your attitude not really helping any, I just never got the chance to talk to you.
It's been six years since we started attending Hogwarts. Neither of us have said anything about that day when we were so young.
And I hate it. After all the verbal abuse, the prejudiced remarks about 'Mione, the scathing things you've said to Harry, the way you treat anyone that isn't a Slytherin… I hate it all.
I hate you. Your words, your actions, your beauty, everything.
Silver hate.
And I want so badly for you to just remember me, and let things go back to the way they were when we were little, in the sunshine. Who cares what anyone would think. The only ones whose opinions matter are my family, Harry and Hermione, and I think they'd eventually understand. It doesn't matter to me what everyone else would say.
Would it matter to you? Do you really hate me as much as you say? As much as you make it seem? I hope not. I don't want you to hate me.
I just want you to remember the way things were. The way I was, the way you were. Please…
Don't forget me.