AN: this is my first story, please read and review. Hope you enjoy!
Harry woke with a start. It was still dark out. He was lying in his bed, in his dorm. The only thing breaking the silence was Neville's breathing. Harry sat up. The darkness made him think it was still night, but no it was morning. A grey and cloudy morning true but morning none the less. He turned towards Ron's bed. If Neville was here perhaps Ron was also.
"Ron?" Harry whispered.
No answer. Harry sat up and looked over to Ron's bed. There was no one there. The sheets were messed up, and the pillow as wet.
Wait, thought Harry, why is the pillow wet? Unless Ron had been crying. Crying.
Suddenly it came crashing down on Harry. Sobbing, tears, the screams. Fred, Fred! Images of Lupin and Tonks and Colin and, and Fred. Of course Ron was crying, Harry thought, how could I have forgotten? But he knew why. Maybe if he didn't think about it, he would go down stairs to see Ron and there would be nine read heads waiting to congratulate him. Not just eight. Harry knew he should go down to the Great Hall, talk to Mrs. Weasly. She was surely worried about him. She always worried about him. But how could he face her? Face all of the Weaslys? It was his fault that Fred wasn't there to celebrate the defeat of Voldemort with them. Harry was also sure that if he went downstairs, people would follow him, talk to him, and congratulate him. But Harry didn't want to be the hero, just for one day.