They were kissing again. Harry and Hermione. I couldn't bear to watch them anymore, so I turned away with my eyes clenched shut.
I was so stupid.
They're perfect together, really. And seeing that it's working out I couldn't possibly let my feelings interfere with what they have.
I loved her with all that I had; with every single fiber in my being. In my eyes, Hermione was the most perfect woman ever created.
But she was Harry's. I couldn't ruin that.
Fell in love with her fourth year, I think, after the Viktor Krum incident. Head over heels, I was overwhelmed; suffocated, even. But even I could see it, even through all the static I had caused because of my love.
She loved Harry.
They told each other how they felt fifth year, and I smiled and nodded when they broke the news to me, but inside I was crumbling. I had known of course, but wished with all my might for me to be only dreaming.
"Everything all right there, Ron?" Harry asked. I looked down at their joined hands.
I drew in a deep breath. "Fine. Everything is fine."
Because that's how fairy tales are supposed to go, aren't they? The hero gets the girl and I just stand around and support them. Because that's all I am, really, ickle Ron Weasley: the faithful sidekick.
Faithful sidekicks don't tear apart fairy tales.
