Ron stood surrounded by orange. He had never changed his wallpaper. The Chudley Cannons were still whizzing around his bedroom, quaffles and bludgers passing in each direction. Ron knew all their moves by heart now. It was difficult not to, when he'd been staring at the same walls for over 15 years.
Ron was still living at the Burrow, oddly enough. Out of his seven siblings, he was the only one that had a constant residence in the ancient house. His brother Bill was off in Egypt with his wife Fleur. Charlie was still working with dragons, only he had recently moved into Romania. Fred and George were living a very nice life off their booming Weasley Wheezes business. And Ginny was always moving in and out of apartments, never once truly settling down. The house was definitely quieter these days…
Ron slowly found a pair of slippers under an old stack of newspapers by the side of his bed, and slipped them on. He knew he had also changed a bit; more bitter than before. The reason for that, Ron didn't like to think about. His best friend Hermione Granger had announced her engagement two weeks ago. Caden Miff was the lucky man's name. She had met him on her first trip to America. Of course, it was love at first sight, at least the way Caden tells.
He's a nice guy, perfect in fact. His suits were always tailor made, he knew everything there was to know about wine, and his choppy blond hair was gelled with the utmost detail. Ron had seen him working on it one morning in the men's room at the Prophet. He began working there a month or two before Hermione first brought him to the Burrow. Before that day, Ron hadn't thought much of him, and now, he loathed him. Although, he couldn't very well show that. Caden graduated from one of the most prestige schools in America, high honors and all. From the moment Hermione stepped into the Burrow with him on her arm, Ron knew he had lost his chance.
However, fourteen days ago, that fact had been cemented. Ron was sitting at his desk, working on a dreadfully boring assignment when Neville brought in the commitments page he was working on. Neville, the awkward romantic, had a flare for writing enduring tales of love, births and losses.
"Ron, why didn't you tell me about Hermione?" He flounced in, his expression filled with half excitement half betrayal.
Caught off guard Ron stumbled, "What about Hermione? Is something wrong?"
"Wrong? No! It's quite the opposite, Caden just told me the good news. I'm writing about it right now; one of our very own and one third of the trio that saved the wizarding world getting married! What headlines!" Neville grinned, like a kid that just discovered the keys to Atlantis. "Can you believe it? When did you find out?"
Truth be told at the time Ron was dumbfounded. It had been eight months since he first met Caden, and only six since him and Hermione had been anything of an item. Sure, they met almost a year ago in America, but they had only been dating for a little over six months. "Right about now." He said deflated. "Did Caden tell you?"
Neville's face fell a little, he laughed nervously. "Oh, hopefully I didn't jump the gun. Yeah, the whole office has been buzzing about it. Caden said it happened Saturday night, at the Tutshill Tornadoes' quidditch match."
Ron hadn't known Caden to be a Tornadoes fan, but serves him well enough; jumping on the bandwagon like everyone else. What a horrible way to propose. He obviously didn't know Hermione at all. If Ron had a chance, he knew just how he'd-
"Brilliant match wouldn't you say? How'd that article go for you?" Neville snapped Ron out of his thoughts.
"Oh, Jordan's on that one. I've got regulations this week." Ron made a face, delighted for the change in subject.
"Tough luck, mate. I better get back, tell Hermione I said congrats!" Neville grinned again and flew out of the room, knocking over Lee Jordan's chair as he went.
Since that day, work had been hopeless; everyone patting Caden on the back, asking him questions about the wedding. Ron had no one to blame but himself though. He had let her get away. He was too cowardly to admit his feelings for fear of, what, rejection? Ron was not quite so sure anymore. There was only one thing that was absolutely clear. He, Ron Weasley was in love with his best friend who what currently picking out a wedding dress with his mother, a dress that would never be worn for him.
"Ronald, Mr. Longbottom is in the fire for you." His mother called up the stairs, pulling Ron from his thoughts.
"Coming Mum," Ron replied hurriedly, running a hand through his bright red hair. He had started to grow it out, only to realize that he was not skilled in the art of hair flipping. Pathetic. He would have to have his mum cut it again.
Once down the stairs he hastily moved towards the mantle in the living room, trying not to look at Hermione, who was seated on the oversized couch with magazines spread on her lap.
"Ron." A pudgy face smiled from the fire.
"Neville, how have you been?" Ron asked, taking a seat in the armchair.
Neville continued smiling. "Great, Luna just returned from Bulgaria. On the scene reporting can be such a hassle." Ron laughed; Luna had spent the last few weeks in Bulgaria looking for the Quibbler's next big news story. There was rumored to be some Snortknots running wild near the home of famous Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. "But, Ron, I didn't come here to talk about me. Mr. Welsh sent me." Ron's face fell. "He wants your report on his desk tomorrow morning or you could owl it to the office tonight. Do you have it?"
"I'm working on it Neville, I'm having a hard time putting the Cannons in good terms. I mean how am I supposed to write an article about my favorite team losing 10 to 230?"
"Maybe you could realize that your favorite team's glory days are over and stop betting on them every time they play." Hermione's voice flowed in the conversation. Ron turned and met her gaze. She kneeled down next to his chair, grinning brilliantly, as if waiting for a retort.
"You should know me enough by now Hermione, I never give up." She rolled her eyes and turned to Neville, a smile playing sweetly on her lips. Ron groaned inwardly at how close she was.
"Hello Neville, I haven't seen you in a while."
"Hi Hermione, too long I might add. Congratulations on the engagement." Ron winced; luckily, no one seemed to notice. "When's the wedding?"
"Well I don't know just yet, we're thinking a summer wedding would be nice. Don't worry you and Luna are first on the invitation list." Neville beamed and moved his gaze back at Ron.
"To answer your question, Ron, I have no idea. Whatever you do, you would be wise think of it fast. We go to press tomorrow morning and Welsh is getting impatient. I better get home, see you both soon I hope." With that, he was gone.
"Leave it to you to wait until the last second," Hermione joked. Her hand lay resting on his arm. "You know Ron I could help you with the article. We both know I'm not much of a sports writer but--" Hermione began however, Ron quickly interrupted.
"That's fine. You've got the wedding to plan." Before she could get out another word, he stood and jogged back up the stairs.
She sighed and pushed herself up off the floor.