This is dedicated to two of my friends. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. I am poor and it would be meaningless to sue.
Email: angeldlsm00@hotmail.com
POINT OF VIEW
Kiara
Sometimes he wishes he could away to a land where no one knows who he is or where he's come from. Life is like that sometimes. You grow, change, and one day you step back, take a look at yourself, and realize that you've changed all along. There was no sign of it when it happened, but it's there all the same. The person who stares back at you in the looking glass is you, but mutated, something and someone you no longer recognize, a stranger.
Ron always seems to be feeling this way. I stand by, watch him change, and I'm powerless to stop it. I know I have to let him go, let him be free. Even though he's been through his fair share of adventures with Harry, I know the one he faces scares him more than everything he's faced put together. Ron never thought he'd be more scared in his lifetime than he was when he stood opposite that giant acromantula, Aragog, a spider that wanted to eat him. Then I asked him what life would be like without Harry. I asked him how he would feel seeing Harry's in the arms of another. He and Harry are now engaged and Ron has never been so scared before.
We've been friends for as long as I can remember, Ron and me. As young children, we were especially close. Two years my senior, I preferred to hang out with Ron because I thought he was cooler than the other Weasley children, especially Percy, who was always telling me I should act less like a tomboy and more like the little girl I was. This didn't bother Ron, who was more than happy to take me on as a friend after I ripped the head off of one of Ginny's dolls. Mrs. Weasley has always been kind to me and I miss him terribly when he goes away to Hogwarts and I have to stay home and be tutored.
For some reason, my parents don't want me going to boarding school and so I have to learn magic at home. This never presents too many problems as I never have to deal with Draco Malfoy or Professor Snape, both of which Ron is always telling me terrible things about. The Weasley family is always warm and the Burrow is always open. Mr. Weasley invites me over once a week to discuss what I learned in my Muggle Studies class and Mrs. Weasley makes me a warm meal. It doesn't satisfy how much I miss Ron.
Before he went to Hogwarts, Ron and I shared an equal fascination for Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. My grandmother told us the story of You-Know-Who and how Harry, who was only a baby, defeated him and made him loose all of his powers. Ron and I sat before her, spellbound by the tale, and we couldn't believe it when Percy, who never lied, told us the story was true. I was insanely jealous when Ron found out that he and Harry were the same age and even more so when Mr. Weasley told us that Harry would probably be in Ron's year at Hogwarts.
I cried the day before Ron left and he promised to tell me everything that had happened when the summer holiday rolled around again. Mum wouldn't let me go to the train station to say goodbye to him, nor to pick him up when June finally rolled around after what seemed like ages. The day he was expected home, I waited patiently outside the Burrow until they arrived, and when I saw him for the first time in months, I flung myself upon him, begging to be embraced. Ron was laughing and I couldn't believe how much older he looked even though he wasn't even gone for a year.
We spent the day degnoming the garden while Ron told me fascinating tales about his first year at Hogwarts. The very first thing I asked about was Harry, wanting to know if he was really in Ron's year, and I practically shrieked when Ron told me they were best friends. I wanted to know everything and it amazed me how relaxed Ron seemed. Percy later told me this had to do with the fact that Ron no longer looked at Harry the same way I did, but I couldn't understand why he wasn't more excited. Harry was famous and Ron acted like he was just a regular kid.
The one thing Ron hadn't told me about his first year was the incident under the trapdoor where he beat some giant chess set. Fred and George told Ginny and I this story, and we both told Ron he was crazy when we heard he had sacrificed himself. I was terrified, wondering what I would have done if Ron wouldn't have come back that summer.
Eventually, Ron and his brothers stole Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia and drove it to Surrey to pick up Harry. I wasn't allowed over at the Weasleys for the rest of the summer because Mum said I would pick up Ron's bad habits, which infuriated me. I wanted to meet Harry Potter and my evil mum wouldn't let me! Believing this to be a great injustice, I locked myself in my room and cried, owling Ron to tell him what happened. I wasn't allowed to see him for the rest of the summer and when he stole the car a second time to fly to Hogwarts, my mum thought it would be a good idea if I didn't visit Mr. Weasley, either.
The second time Harry came around was just when I was leaving for holiday in Italy. My horrid parents, learning that Harry was going to be there, decided we should leave right away. They always thought it was wrong of my grandmother to entertain Ron and me with silly stories of the Dark Lord. It wasn't something they thought I should hear at such a young age. Because of this, I was forbidden to associate with Harry and, by consequence, Ron.
There was little my parents could do to stop me when Ron came home from his fourth year at Hogwarts. I confirmed their worst fears when I snuck out of the house and over to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley was disapproving of my acts but, thinking my mother was a Snitch short of a Quidditch game, allowed me to stay. It was as if we hadn't seen each other in years, which, truth be told, we hadn't. There was much hugging and crying when Ron came home. I heard all about the Triwizard Tournament, his awful row with Harry, and all that had happened his second and third year, too.
It was the summer after his sixth year, though, that I started to realize just how different Ron had become. It wasn't just how much taller he had gotten or that his voice had changed when I wasn't around, but it was the way he thought, the way he reacted. Ron always complained to me when we were young children that he hated being in his brothers' shadows. Some days it was Bill he hated because Bill didn't like him one bit and wanted Ron out of his things. Other days it was Fred when he had been in an especially nasty fight with George and took it out on the first person around. Most of the time, though, it was Charlie, who Ron longed so much to be like and went so much out of his way to make Ron happy. Charlie had a soft spot for Ron that my friend found patronizing at times. A day rarely went by when Ron didn't talk about going to Hogwarts and outshining his brothers. I never understood. He already stood out to me.
Coming back from Hogwarts all those summers, Ron sounded like he was having a marvelous time. He always told me about the things he did with his friends and I felt incredible envy, longing to be among them. If only I could go to a school Quidditch match, eat in the Great Hall, or go to a Divination class with the immensely amusing Professor Trelawney.
Sometimes Ron just wants to disappear. He told me so that momentous summer after his sixth year at Hogwarts. One day when Mummy was out, I went over to the Burrow but no one appeared to be home. Just as I was about to go home, I heard the most dreadful screams, and I scampered up until I found the source. The only time I've been around someone who had seemingly gone crazy was when Mummy was in Saint Mungo's with a terrible fever. Watching Ron act very much the same way terrified me more than I ever thought I could be. Ron was older than me, wiser than me, and I looked up to him. How could someone like Ron be having a nervous breakdown?
Not knowing what to do, I put my arms around him and tried to comfort him. I asked him what was wrong, but he didn't answer. I told him everything was going to be okay even if I wasn't sure because that was what you're supposed to do. When he finally calmed down, we were silent for a very long time, and then Ron looked at me sadly and told me he wanted to disappear. I'll never forget the look on his face as he said those words.
What Ron told me only later was that over his sixth year, he had started to date Harry. This came as quite a shock to me as I had no idea Ron was interested in other boys, and when I called him on this, Ron told me it came as a shock to him as well. Apparently, Harry had been interested in Ron since their third year, though Ron had always taken this insinuation to be a joke. When Harry realized he was serious, and Ron realized he was serious, things had become very tense. The thought wormed its way into his mind, shifting things about, and eventually settled in, causing Ron to realize he wanted to be with Harry.
Ron was scared. I've known him since I was four and he didn't need to tell me he was scared for me to know. Harry is his best friend, but I'm his closest friend, and I can read Ron just as easily as I can read my Muggle Studies textbook. It's a side effect from knowing someone since childhood, being so close to them that they become an extension of you. That's what Ron is to me, and I could tell he was scared.
Ron has been telling me how much he hates being Ron Weasley for as long as I can remember. It's always confused me, always made me sad, because there's something so special about Ron that he can't see. His vision is tainted. All he sees is Ron Weasley, the second youngest child of a poor, pureblood family that is considered a disgrace by the richer, aristocratic ones. All he sees is Harry Potter's sidekick. Ron doesn't see anything outstanding about himself, but he doesn't see anything particularly tragic, either. What Ron does see is much worse. Ron sees someone who is average and blends in without a second thought. He let's his fears blind him, forbidding him from seeing what's really there, because no one shines the way that Ron does.
I finally got to meet Harry that summer. One of the first things I did was tell him about what I had seen in Ron, how the syndrome was driving him mad. I thought that Harry should be warned and it made me want to cry when Harry looked at me sadly and told me he knew. That hadn't been the first time Ron broke down over such a thing. It scared me. Harry said that Ron has been calling himself second-rate for months. You didn't have to know Harry very well to see that it hurt him, too. He could see Ron shine just as bright as I could.
For most of the summer holiday, I listened to Ron berate himself. I listened to his worries, his fears, and my heart broke a little more every time. He told me he loved Harry before he told Harry, himself, and he only did so after I urged him on. Ron kept his fears right up at the surface, unable to forget them and enjoy his time with Harry.
"I don't know if I can take this," Ron told me one night. We were sprawled out on the grass just outside the Burrow. Dusk was beginning to set in and I was shivering.
"You don't know if you can take what?"
"This - thing- with Harry," he said, finally.
"But you love him," I said, plainly. Ron nodded.
"But I don't know if I can take it. It's too serious, too fast. I'm only seventeen years old. People don't fall in love at seventeen.
I rolled my eyes. "Can you see a future with him, Ron?"
At first Ron didn't answer. I felt my heart hammering in my chest. Harry loved him so much; I couldn't bear for Ron to crush the best thing that had ever happened to either one of them just because he was afraid. He had to know how much he meant to Harry, and I know Harry meant everything to him.
"I've thought about marrying him, Chels," he breathed, shutting his eyes tight. "But it shouldn't be this way. I'm not even gay. I should be with a girl. I want a family. I want kids. I want -"
"You want Harry," I said, not letting him go on any longer with this nonsense. After a brief pause, Ron nodded. "Ron, think things about before you do anything rash. Don't let that red hair of yours make your decisions for you."
"But things aren't supposed to happen like this."
"You aren't supposed to fall in love with your best friend?"
"Chels," he said, groaning.
"I don't see what the problem is, Ron. Think this through. Say you broke up with Harry. What are your chances you'll find someone who makes you feel just as wonderful as Harry does? How would you feel seeing Harry in someone else's arms?"
Two weeks later, Ron proposed to Harry.
Ron's changed so much in the last year, even more so than he changed over those six years when I felt like I was loosing grip with him. He still hates being another one of those Weasley kids, but he hasn't had a breakdown since that night at the Burrow. Sometimes he wants to go away to a place where nobody knows him. Harry often has the same consensus. They're beautiful together, engaged and about to be married.
I once told Ron that I see him a way no one else does. He laughed at me and told me I was crazy, but there's truth in the statement. No one looks at Ron the way I do just as no one looks at Ron the way Harry does. Ron sees himself flawed, average, and just another face in the crowd. Ron sees himself as being a kid with too long legs and too red hair with an average face and too many freckles. Though he knows it's ridiculous, Ron sees himself as Harry's sidekick.
Harry sees Ron as beautiful, the image of perfection. Harry can't look at Ron without smiling unless Ron is on one of his trips where in he degrades himself. The Ron Harry sees shines brighter than anything and Harry can be brought to tears being in Ron's mere presence. Ron gives Harry the will to continue even though he knows Voldemort is out there, waiting for him, planning his end, because having Ron makes Harry believe that there's still something pure in this world.
As for me? I see Ron with an untainted eye. I love him in the way a sister loves a brother and I look up to him as I always have. I'm close enough to Ron to see his insecurities and his flaws. I see the way Ron has a tendency to pick his teeth when he's bored. I see the way Ron doesn't get enough sleep, worrying about Harry and wondering just how long they have together. I see Ron when he's at his most determined, ready to lay down his life for Harry. We've always said Ron was the bravest person we've ever met. There aren't many people who will prop themselves up on a broken let to defend the life of his best friend. Ron is one of those people.
He's always shined in my eyes, even when I was a child. There has always been something in Ron that radiates. He has a way of making you feel special. You can spend hours talking to him, laughing, or hours in silence and never feel bored. His modesty can make you feel vain, but never to the point where you question your integrity. Ron would never make a person get to that point.
Some people see Ron the way he sees himself. Ron can be just another one of those Weasley kids with red hair, freckles, and an abundance of hand me downs. Ron can be hot-tempered and impatient. You put Ron in the same room as a three year old, and by the time Ron leaves the room, the child has dubbed him her best friend, and doesn't want him to leave (I should know as this happened with my cousin, Whitney).
Harry has become so much more to Ron over the years than a figure in a story we both thought was really cool. Ron has become so much more to me than the coolest Weasley kid. It's strange how a point of view can change, alter, and yet appear as if it stayed the same all along. Ron is marrying Harry this July, on Harry's birthday, in fact. I'm helping to plan the wedding and I still see Ron change, evolve, and I know he's going to make a wonderful husband. You don't need to look very hard to see that, though. It's all there. In the way he touches him, gazes at him, and speaks to him as if he's almost shy.
Ron's become a stranger to himself but I see who he is. He's still Ron Weasley, my closest friend a confidant. He's emerged into a man from the boy I know like a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon, but he's still just Ron, the coolest kid I ever knew.
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