A/N: Ron really hasn't been emotion-sensitive. This is why he doesn't make the best people person. Ah well, Ron and C. to Jk.
Of course, Ron countered this, shifting his striped sleeves slightly. He mimicked the boys voice under his breath as he retrieved item after item, each one seeming heavier and heavier as he held them. Or maybe it just felt that way. No dungbomb could weigh that much.
"Oh ferget it." The boy huffed, banging the counter on his way out. The door rang out in a dull thud, which signalled the apprehensive appearance of the twins' mops of hair.
"What was that?" Fred questioned, his body appearing.
"I believe that was an angry customer. Again." George added, only showing a hint of annoyance.
"Look, I didn't do anything, he just got annoyed that I was take so long with the jokes. It was his fault." Ron told the two, his eyes diverted to the floor as if he had a secret vendetta with it, though it was a floor that hadn't done anything.
"Ron, I doubt that you are really the kind of employee we want greeting out customers." Fred said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. There wasn't any problem with Ron, he was just very spacious lately. He'd really lost the vibrancy of his youth, and was now in the self-pitying teenage phase, that both Fred and George were sure they had skipped.
"Fine by me," Ron said, shrugging off the stupid violently maroon vest the twins had made him endure throughout his entire time behind the counter.
"Just go and stack some Skiving Snackboxes and pack the Wizard Wands up in their boxes. Remember-" Fred began.
"Twelve to a medium box. But six to a small box. Packets shouldn't contain more than 3 unless-" George continued, but Ron had heard it all before, and now it was just patronising.
"Yeah, I know. I'm not stupid." Ron pouted slightly, as his brothers snorted at this. Fred softly nudged him toward the storeroom, just beyond the purple veil that lie in the dark recesses of the store. Why did everyone pity him and make him feel like an idiot? He wasn't. He knew it. Harry never treated him like an idiot, but he wished he could say the same for his other so-called 'best friend', Hermione. She never missed a chance to comment on how much she knew and how little he did. Or how he was a complete idiot for forgetting a piece of Billywig or something trivial like that. He really didn't want to go back to school. He knew he had to though. That was the problem. Both Fred and George never had to do anything, because no one expected them to do anything. Well, no one expected him to do anything either, but he was the one that people commented on,
'What has Ron done lately?' the voice high-pitch and whinging, like so many of his relatives.
'He became Prefect and was on the Quidditch Team.' He could hear his mother's voice counter, proudly.
'Oh like Percy and Bill then? How are they?' The voice changed the topic so quickly, even at the thought he got whiplash.
And that was all that was ever said about Ron. He was sure. Maybe he was too into this 'self-pity' that had suddenly cropped up against the happy exterior of his previous self. Actually, every year since being at Hogwarts his ego had become more and more bruised, and his opinions were regarded less and less, or were too stupid to even acknowledge.
