Title: Silent tears in the dark
Author: FireOpal
Summary: " cried tears over you last night, did you know? Silver tears in the dark that shone for you and only you." Lonely singletons here my call! A short one shot, Ron's POV on a H/Hr pairing. Based on true feelings.
Pairing: HPHG, one-sided HG/RW, slight one-sided RLLP
Genre: Full Metal Angst
Notes: Hi guys, here's my little contribution for Valentine's Day, and it's going out to all the lonely singletons out there who wish they weren't! Enjoy!
I cried tears over you last night, did you know? Silver tears in the dark that shone for you I cried tears over you last night, did you know? Silver tears in the dark that shone for you.. No, you can't have done, or you wouldn't be sitting there now, 'studying' in the sunlight, his arms over your shoulders, you giggling at something he whispers in your ear.
You, so kind, so generous, compassionate, clever, loving, beautiful, stern, loyal. Everything I ever wished for. And him, intelligent, handsome, brave, clever, heroic, reckless, and don't forget amazing at Quidditch – everything I wish I was. I'm the sidekick, the loyal and none too clever best friend, the comic relief, the sideshow to the happy couple.
He's now grinning happily, running his fingers through his hair, making it more messy than usual. And you're blushing slightly, still trying to work. Then he drops one hand to your face, to stroke your beautiful curling hair and tuck it behind your ear, before trailing a hand over your sweet face, your soft skin.
You'll give up before long; I know this routine. You'll be unable to resist his subtle ministrations, and you'll peck him on the cheek, hoping to stop him with this small action, but before your gentle lips can touch his skin, he moves so that your lips touch. I've watched and you don't even notice, my blue green eyes following you as you're wrapped up in each other.
I still remember when he told me, and I felt this for the first time, the jealousy, the pain, the longing, the anguish.
"Hey, Ron?" said Harry, looking uncharacteristically nervous as he stood, leaning against the frame of his four poster bed. His hair, messy as usual draped over his eyes, and his green eyes behind those round glasses where almost apprehensive.
"Yeah?" I say absently, looking through my trunk, kneeling uncomfortably on the floor. I'm eternally grateful that I had lost my potions textbook that day, so I had an excuse to hide my face as he continued. Robes and books and sweet wrappers were all in one jumbled mess as usual, making it impossible to find anything.
"Well, I, um, I think, no, I know, I, uh, love Hermione." He stammered eventually, and I could hear his pacing even though I was staring straight into my messy trunk, unseeing. My insides froze more efficiently than one of Hermione's expert Freezing Charms, and a cold sickness crept into my stomach as it swooped, worsening as time went on, and you continued, oblivious to my state. "And I wondered if you'd, er, help me ask her out?"
I sift through my trunk, potions text book hidden under an old jumper in my left hand before speaking, so that my voice would be clear and steady.
"You know me, mate. Hopeless with women." I say with difficulty that doesn't show. My voice is jovial, just as I wanted it to be. I can see him fidget with his glasses out of the corner of my eye. "Why don't you just go and tell her how you feel? Girls love that kind of thing. Take her for a walk around the lake or something." 'Like I've been planning to for months' I add in the privacy of my own head, still trying to calmly control my emotions.
"Ok, I will. Thanks mate." He says lightly and happily. I hear the door shut as he heads down to the common room, presumably to follow my advice. As I hear the door click shut behind him, I sit down on my haunches heavily, thankful no one else is around for once.
I only feel the first tear as it drops from my bowed face onto a limp hand. I can feel the tears filling my eyes, the sadness, jealousy and anger pulsing through my battered heart. Standing quickly, I kick my open trunk hard, only succeeding in adding physical pain to emotional pain. I go into the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. Garish, pathetically messy hair, ugly red freckles, plain, rounded nose, pale skin, tall gangly frame with far-too-short, worn-out clothes and finally, as I meet my own reflection, red-rimmed, tear-filled lost and angry blue-green eyes. My mum always used to say they were my most expressive feature, and now I feel like they truly are the windows to my soul. Rejected. Betrayed. Jealous. Angry. Lost. Hurt.
When I venture down to the common room later, it's to hear cheering, and, as I turn the corner, to see you and Harry kissing happily in the middle of the room, the rest of Gryffindor watching, cheering and catcalling for their hero and rule-abiding scholar. Completely ignoring me, the other one of the Trio, the other Weasley, the face in the crowd.
I give you my forced congratulations, heart dropping at the pure happiness and love in your eyes, before you go to sit down together, alone, by the fire. Then I leave, fobbing you off with some obvious excuse about going to the library. You don't even start, you're staring into his eyes and losing yourself, barely acknowledging my presence – Ron Weasley going to the library? – and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you lean into his embrace.
I walk around the grounds until dinner, keeping out of sight and hearing as I curse and cry and think and despair. And when I sit beside you as usual during dinner, you practically ignore me, only sparing time for a quick ' 'lo Ron' before losing yourselves in each other again, so I sit and eat in silence, my hunger curbed for once. I head on up to the dorm early, and no one disturbs me as I lay awake, presuming I'm already asleep.
Back in the present, you've both given up all pretence of studying, and you're sitting curled cutely on his lap, arms around his neck, tongue exploring his mouth. I give up too, and quickly slip my blank Transfiguration essay into my bag, along with my unused quill and ink. I'll do it later. Now however…
You don't notice as I leave, but I tell Ginny I'm off practising flying in case you come to your senses. She's wrapped up in her friends, giggling over some Hufflepuff boy in their Charms class, but she gets my message.
I fly around for a while, my thoughts on you. The slight frown on your face when you work, the way your eyes blaze with anger when either Harry or I haven't done our homework, the way they light up when you get your expected 'O' grade, the small smile you have that seems to be directed at me and only me, and makes me feel so special, and tells me maybe you love me after all. But then I remember the way you giggle and smile and kiss him, how you blush prettily when he's near and how you light up when he buys you some little gift, and I know I'm fooling myself. How could you ever love me, when you have him?
But it's what Harry says when we're in bed that night, Neville, Seamus and Dean still in the common room, after another silent dinner on my point, that really cuts deep. I'm already undressed and comfortably warm in bed whilst he undresses, betraying sleek muscles to the empty dorm that would've had all the girls, all the girls and the female staff, hell, the whole of Hogwarts after him.
"Ron? You still awake?" he says, slipping his well-fitting pyjama shirt over his head.
"Yeah, why?" I say, not looking at him, but the ceiling of my four-poster.
"I just wanted to thank you." He says, and I hear him pulling back his covers and slipping into bed.
"Why?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
"Because, if it hadn't been for you, Hermione and I wouldn't have got together. It's just wonderful mate, and all because of you, so I just wanted to thank you. Anyway, 'night Ron."
He turns over, judging by the rustling, and, with a neat flick of his wand, the lights extinguished themselves quickly. I stare at the canopy in the darkness long after the others' snores echo peacefully around the dorm. And I cry again. I cry for you.
As he watched the solitary figure fly between the goalposts, easily recognisable even at this distance, Remus Lupin sighed. He had heard about Harry and Hermione's relationship through the grapevine, and though he was extremely happy for his best friends' son, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the young red haired Weasley.
He had seen, with his keen amber eyes, the way the boy had silently yearned for the intelligent girl, long before Harry had even glanced twice at her. And now, he couldn't help but feel a kinship. He continued to watch the red haired blob until it grew dark and he landed to walk back to the castle on his own, and with a pang to his heart, he glanced at the appearing stars and creeping half-moon.
"Oh, Lily." He whispered, before turning his back on the window, passing his desk where a beautiful red haired woman smiled and waved whilst holding a sickly, but happy sandy haired man companionably. And Remus, turning his back on the past, went to bed.
