"Well, whoever you are, you don't deserve to be my friend."
And with that, Ron threw Harry's tie on the ground and walked away, tears beginning to drip down his face. Not looking back, he didn't stop until he reached the car, opened the driver's side door and slumped down into the seat.
Resting his head against the steering wheel, Ron's shoulders shook with suppressed sobs as the light began to wane. The only sound for some minutes were his shaky breaths. After about five minutes, as his sobs subsided, he sat up straighter, pulling his blue headband off his head.
Harry had given that headband to him, way back in their first year: it all seemed so long ago. Ron had to smile slightly as he remembered their meeting, and his mind wandered over their past seven years as best friends: first year and saving Sirius from the dementors, second year and defeating Voldemort, third year and travelling to Pigfarts, the list could go on.
He had never thought that their friendship would become so strained, all because of that bastard Gilderoy Lockhart making Harry think he wasn't worth anything anymore. He had thought that their friendship could withstand anything; that their bond as buddies would prevail no matter what, but obviously not. Not when Harry, his best friend, his brother, was refusing to help Hogwarts when it needed him most. And it was this thought that depressed him.
"Hey kid, why the long face?"
The voice startled Ron, who let out a slightly strangled yelp and spun around to find the source of the voice. When his eyes came to rest on an older man, wearing a checked shirt and old, dirty jeans, he tried hard not let his confusion show on his face.
"Uh, if you don't mind my asking, who are you? And how did you get into my car?" Ron asked.
The old man let out a hearty chuckle and held out a calloused hand for him to shake.
"Me? I'm just your everyday, working-class, blue-collar, gay guy with a beard: nothing too unusual around these parts" he said, in a voice that Ron thought was vaguely familiar. There was something about this man that made him feel at ease, so he gave a tiny smile in return and relaxed slightly.
"Now I asked you, why the long face kid? You look like someone just died" the old man chuckled once more.
Ron just sighed and looked down at the headband in his slightly shaking hands.
"Someone might as well have died" he mumbled miserably, swallowing past the building lump in his throat.
"What do you mean?" the old man asked, all joviality missing, a look of genuine concern on his face.
With a lack of hesitation that even he couldn't ever explain, Ron told him the whole story.
"And so I tried to go and tell him to come back and save the school, but he won't. He believes that he doesn't matter anymore, that no one cares about him, just because he's 'so old now'. But he doesn't get that we still need him, not just Hogwarts, but Hermione still needs him" he finished in a rush, letting his final words go unspoken out loud.
I still need him.
Yet, somehow, Ron believed that the old man understood.
Silence reigned between the two for a few minutes. During this time, Ron kept sneaking glances at the old man, trying to place where he'd seen him before. He gave up after a while, deciding that it didn't really matter.
When the old man did speak next, it was not what Ron was expecting him to say.
"Was he upset and angry?"
Taken aback, Ron stared at the old man in surprise.
"Well, yeah, I guess" he replied, not quite sure where the old man was heading with this.
"In my experience, kid, that means he still cares. And I also know that he will probably change his mind, if your school really means that much to him."
Silence followed this, as Ron thought about what the old man had said, but when he went to ask him more questions, he found the seat next to him to be empty. Confused, he looked around, but there was no sign of the old man, only a memory of their conversation lingered in his mind.
"He still cares?" he whispered to himself, twirling his blue headband in his fingers. The realisation of what he had to do now nudged him to get out of the car, telling him that he had to go back and try one more time. Pulling the headband back into its rightful place and wiping away the last trace of his tears, Ron opened the driver's side door and climbed out.
Heading back to Godric's Hollow, a soft voice reached his ears. Ron smiled when he recognised it: it was undeniably Harry's, and he was singing a wonderfully familiar tune. It was, quite literally, music to his ears as a true smile crept back onto his face.
"I gotta get back to Hogwarts, I gotta get back to school. I gotta get myself to Hogwarts, how could I have been such a fool? Back to witches and wizards and magical beasts, to goblins and ghosts and to magical feasts: it's all that I love and it's all that I need at Hogwarts. Hogwarts, I think I'm going back" Harry sang, sounding much more like the Harry that Ron knew so well.
Hidden from view behind a large elm tree, Ron threw a silent fist into the air in celebration. He didn't know exactly how it had happened, but something had convinced Harry to go back and help the school. And Ron wasn't going to stop him.
"I'll cast some spells with a flick of my wand, defeat the dark arts: yeah bring it on! And do it all with my best friend Ron, cause together we're totally awesome."
"Yeah, cause together we're totally awesome" Ron sang, finally revealing himself. Hazel eyes locked on brown, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
"Ron, you came back!" Harry exclaimed, relief flooding his face.
'Don't sound so surprised Harry' Ron thought to himself.
"Just in the nick of time: I was on my way back to Hogwarts, but then I ran into some guy with a beard and he told me you'd probably change your mind….then you just started singing –" he was starting to ramble, but Harry cut him off.
"Ron….I'm sorry I forgot who I was, but I remember now."
'You're Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who's saved the wizarding world from so much and nearly died doing it?'
"….I'm your friend" Harry finished, putting a strong hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Best friend" Ron corrected softly around the sudden lump in his throat, mirroring the gesture.
"Now come on pal: gear up that flying car. Let's go" Harry commanded, and Ron was delighted to hear the fighting tone back in his friend's voice. He responded with a grin of his own as he threw an arm around Harry's shoulders and steered him over to the waiting Anglia.
"Let's go buddy!"
Fin.
