During year 4...

Ronald Billius Weasley is the 2nd youngest out of 7 and the youngest male out of his entire family. To Harry, it might seem like a blessing to live in such a big family. To Ron, it seems more like a curse.

It seems like everyone- every single member of his family- has done something Ron hasn't, done something that Ron can't hope to achieve. And it's not just his family- it also happens to be his two best friends, Harry freaking Potter and Hermione Granger.

For Bill, it's for getting a job at a Wizard Bank run by Goblins. For Charlie, it's for being such a great Quidditch player. For Percy, it's being able to grow up and become a junior Barty Crouch. For Fred and George, it's for being such a genius and figuring out how to make sweets that can make you ill. For Hermione, it's for being so god damn perfect. And for Harry- well, Harry's Harry. He's the boy who lived, the star Seeker of any team, being famous in every single way- and now, for become the 4rth champion from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. What's that give Ron to be?

So when Harry got picked for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Ron thought he had the right to know how he did it. When he kept telling him otherwise... Well, there was a part of Ron that believed him, but the bigger part of his was jealous and anger.

Not entirely at Harry- more so at himself.

He got up into the common room before everyone else, slamming the door to his dorm behind him, glaring at Harry's bed. Even Harry Potter's bed was better than his- it looked cleaner.

Ron stalked up to his own bed, then looked up at the wall furiously. Marking a spot with his wand, Ron set down the stick of wood and- in a fit of rage- slammed his fist against the wall. Again. And again. And again, until the skin on his knuckles broke and he swore loudly at the now throbbing hand he had.

Sitting down on his bed, he glared down at his hand before finally feeling his anger slowly ebbing away until he was left with this cold, hard feeling of failure and worthlessness.

Would he ever he able to do anything right? Even in his group of friends, he was the stupidest, the least talented by any aspect, least famous...

"Oh yeah, that's me." Ron said aloud, falling backwards he was staring at the top of his bed. "Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's stupid friend."

He took another breath and set his hands behind his head. How was he supposed to try and focus on anything when he knew he wasn't going to be as good as Hermione or Harry or any of his stupidly huge family.

Letting himself go limp for a second, he tried to relax- to calm himself down. But the events that had just happened kept replaying in his head- Dumbledore looking out over the crowd with a piece of parchment in his hand and saying the name.

"Harry Potter."

Ron slammed both his fists into the bed and sat straight up, wincing at his knuckles. Why did everyone have to be so much better than him? Why couldn't he be as good as them? Why?

When Ron woke up again, his first thought was of Harry Potter and the stupid 4rth champion and this stupid tournament. He got up and dressed quickly, not wanting to face anyone. Before anything, he got down into the bathroom. Taking slow and steady breaths, he looked up at his face in the mirror. He scanned it- going over every detail. His red hair, his mass amount of freckles, his blue eyes...

He sighed, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall. His bag hung loosely over his shoulder and as he let his head up, a bottle of ink, a roll of parchment, and a few quills fell out of his bag. The bottle of ink smashed on the ground, soaking his parchment and quills.

Ron swore again. God, why couldn't he do anything right?! Pulling out his wand, he said, "Reparo." The ink bottle mended itself, the ink magically going back into the newly repaired bottle. At least he could do something right...

Leaning down to grab his stuff, he heard someone else come into the bathroom. The someone laughed. "Having fun, Weaselbee?"

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy." Ron snapped back as he carefully placed his stuff back into bag.

"Not very friendly, huh Weasley?" Malfoy asked, crossing his arms.

"Just get out of my way." Ron snapped, standing up and pushing the bag's strap over his shoulders.

"Who's got you so riled up? I want to send them flowers-"

Ron pulled out his wand. "Shut. Your. God. Damn. Mouth."

Malfoy's eyes widened. "Don't have Potter here to stop you, do you Weasley?"

At the mention of Harry's name, Ron's grip tightened on his wand. "I said shut up."

At that moment, Crabbe and Goyle wandered into the bathroom. The two saw what was happened and Goyle's eyes shrunk into slits. Ron glared around at the three of them.

"Let me out." He snarled, stuffing his wand into his bag before he could tempt himself too much. He started forwards, but Crabbe shoved him backwards with a look of defiance.

"I don't think so..." Malfoy smiled down at him. "I think you ought to learn not to mess with your superiors."

Goyle and Crabbe cracked their knuckles in almost unison. Ron, for the first time since his argument with Harry, felt a different emotion running through his entire body. Fear.

It seemed to happen in slow motion- Crabbe and Goyle exchanged looks, Goyle nodded, then advanced on Ron, who made a feeble attempt to grab his wand out of his bag...

And then Goyle swung his foot backwards and slammed it into Ron's nose.

Ron didn't go to breakfast after that- he'd gone straight to class. Potions with Slytherins. Lucky him...

Sitting down next to Seamus Finnegan, Ron subconsciously rubbed his eye. He'd much rather be getting Madame Pomfrey to fix his almost-certainly-broken nose, but Snape wouldn't let him go anywhere. And if he'd come in late, Snape would have given him a detention- even if he said he had been in the hospital wing.

He heard Malfoy and the other Slytherin's cheers and taunts from the other side of the room, seeing as Snape wasn't there yet. Ron, for the first time since last night, wasn't feeling angry. He was feeling quite defeated and worthless once again.

He'd just gotten beat up by two Slytherins. How fast was the story going to travel around? How many people would come up and taunt him about it, or ask him if he was okay? Well, it'd be a change for once- people wondering about him rather than wondering about Harry.

Maybe there was a good change to something so bad.

No. Ron shook his head and ignored his headache that wasn't scar-induced- seeing as he didn't have a lightning scar, as everyone seemed to want to point out. That's stupid.

He took a breath and- ignoring the growling in his stomach- half-listened to Snape explain the lesson he already knew he was going to fail at.

A/N: So yeah... Hi... I feel like Ron would constantly beat himself up about things and put himself under pressure like that, seeing as he has to many people he feels like he needs to live up too.

Also, these will mainly be focusing on Harry, Ron, or Hermione, but there might be a few about Neville or Ginny or Luna or Malfoy (because there are obviously unspoken secrets inside his head) or people like that.

Thank you to anyone who took time to read.