Title- Sometimes I'm Sorry is Enough
Author- ThatSuperFlyChick
Summary- Ron can sometimes forget what Harry went through – even before they met. But all he needs is a little reminder and an hour or so slowly denting the wall with his head to make it right.
Disclaimer- Obviously, by my friggin disgusting use of British accents that I do not own Harry Potter.
Enjoy!
Sometimes, Ron felt like a slimy git. The kind of slimy git that only Snape was allowed to be. You know what? Not even Snape. Voldemort. He was a slimy git-like snake that enjoyed murdering people and wearing red bloody contact lenses.
Okay, well maybe not, but he was pretty damn close. Only before- Merlin, was it only an hour? - he proved that he was indeed the worst Weasley. Even Percy had nothing on him! Because no matter how stupid Percy was, he had never made his best friend look so miserable. Sure, he made Ron miserable, but they were blood brothers, it didn't matter as much. But, what had Ron done? He had been utterly mental- to Harry! Of all people, that's who. He hadn't meant to, it sort of slipped. Hermione always said he never had a tactful bone in his body. She would have to do something about that; some sort of spell to make him more sympathetic.
As he sat in the loo banging his head against the wall, the memory from before played itself over again in his head, making his nauseous.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHP
The gum Ron had been chewing moments ago was now plastered to his face, barely relenting as Ron struggled to get it off. He shot a dirty look at Harry who was laughing loudly beside him. Stupid prat was the one who popped it in the first place, and what right did he have to it? Harry himself couldn't make a bubble that perfect and they both knew it. He's just jealous, Ron thought.
Any thought of the gum that now tasted like face was pushed far from his mind as Colin came bounding past them, calling hello to Harry as he went. Ron watched as attention was drawn to Harry, a few pretty Hufflepuffs giggling madly as Harry sneezed when they looked over. It was Harry's turn to turn red now and Ron roared with laughter.
"How the tables have turned! Teach you to litch'rally burst my bloody bubble again, mate. Karma is a bitch!" he said, caught between laughing, scraping the rest of Drooble's Best Chewing Gum off his face, and ignoring the fact that his last piece of it was slightly odd with the flavor of skin. Choosing the fourth option, teasing Harry mercilessly, Ron continued.
"Do tell, Boy-Who-Lived. How amazing is it to be loved by the good people of the wizarding world, and hated by the most evil and stupidest of the lot? Do you feel special? Brave, daring, courageous? Please, tell Ronnie all about it Mr. Savior/ Boy-Who-Bloody-Wouldn't-Die!"
Harry glared at him, resisting the urge to put up a not so nice finger, "You sound a bit too much like that Skeeter cow for my liking, mate. And what happened to not calling me the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"Oh, right. Must'a forgot 'bout that. It can't be that bad, though. I mean, surviving a clear as day curse that was meant to kill you from You-Know-Who," Ron started, only to be interrupted by Harry's usual, "No I don't know who, mind on telling me?" Ron ignored him and continued, "Is a pretty big feat, and you gotta get a nickname. At least it's not a bad name or anything – like Wormtail or Ronniekins."
They continued on walking, Ron waiting for a retort. When none came, he looked over to see Harry staring at him incredulously.
"Wha'?"
"Of course it's a bad name! Think about it, Boy-Who-Lived. That name right there implies that I was the only one – something bad! Like, all those Order members, they didn't live, they didn't have a spurt of good luck in the form of my mum to step in front of them. So obviously it's a bad name."
Ron shook his head however. "But everyone knows your name! It's that... I don't know… well, cool? People think you're a hero. Some people would give anything for that. Just look at that Lockhart git – he went to the extremes for fame."
"There's a certain line between wanting to be known and being forced into undeserved hero-worship that was the result of things that were completely out of your control." Harry shot back, releasing a weary sigh when he saw Ron shake his head.
"I still think some things are worth it, if wizards and witches all over the bloody planet talk about you in a good way." Ron continued unthinkingly, glancing at Harry's face.
Harry was quiet for a long time, apparently lost in his thoughts. His face steadily grew paler as they walked to the dormitories. Finally, when Ron was going to ask if Harry needed to see Madame Pomphrey, he spoke. He stopped in front of the Fat Lady, turning a tortured gaze on his friend. Ron eyes – which had gone quite wide – noticed that Harry's hands were clenched in fists and his bottom lip was nearly bleeding with the pressure he put on it with his teeth, attempting in vain to stop the slight tremble.
"Some things… some things are not worth it, just to have some famous name. You remember why I have that name, right? No, not 'cause Voldemort shot a curse at me. Because my parents died right before that, gave me a chance to live and unintentionally (well, maybe on purpose for my father), " Harry gave a small, quivering smile before becoming serious again, "Some stupid celebrity status. So, no Ron. Some things are not that important," Harry took deep breathes, still trying to tame his lower lip.
Ron could only gape unintelligently, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
"I have Quidditch practice. I'll see you later." He said stiffly, turning to the Fat Lady and murmuring a low password, then climbing through the open doorway. She swung the door closed, then 'tsked-tsked' at Ron, "You have something to fix there, Weasley. I sure know that I wouldn't want Harry Potter angry at me for long. Did you hear about what he did to that snake down in the Chamber of Secrets a few years ago?"
Ron was positive she said more, but he was already walking away down to the closest bathroom so he could puke, all the while looking around for Hermione, sure that her internal Ron-was-being-a-git alarm was wailing on full blast.
TBC
AN: So… whuh'chu think? Should I continue with this or trash it? I would like some feedback, just to be sure of whether or not people like this. As always, flames will be used to make marshmallows. I know there are mistakes, so if you could kindly point them out, that'd be great. I used to swear that I would never write a Harry Potter fic cause I would get the British words messed up, so tell me if I did anywhere.
Ciao!
-ThatSuperFlyChick-
