Ron stared down at his feet, too big for his body, the same with his nose and hands. He picked at a freckle on his nose with a chewed-up nail. He tried to grin at his reflection, but his parallel only continued to frown sorrowfully at him.
"Stop that." He told it, "Just smile, won't you?" But the mirror image only mocked him, ending his tirade with another sad distant look. He looked pale, his freckles dark against his skin.
He stepped closer to the white marble sink, pushing his arms against the edge. "I really am rubbish, aren't I?" he asked himself, putting his hands on the faucet handles.
"Ron?" A voice suddenly croaked behind him, and he whirled around. Harry was staring at him bewildered. "Ron, what are you doing?"
Ron just turned back around to the sink, and turned the water on, watching the blood flow from his arms and down the drain. "Nothing, just taking care of some trash."
