When you can't look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.

- Alice in Wonderland

The tea was too hot on his tongue, causing Ron to flinch. Warm liquid spilt out everywhere, including over him, when he dropped the mug to the floor with a loud clatter. It shattered into several sharp pieces, and only luck saved him from not getting cut too. He roared in both pain and frustration; his legs were showered with the tea that was too hot to drink. He wished he had owled in sick today. Stayed in bed.

"Stupid fucking bollocks!" Ron muttered to himself, groping for the wand he had in the pocket of his trousers. With a swift flick of his wand, he pieced the mug back together and wiped up the tea. He then banished the cup to the sink before leaning against the counter in the Auror's break room, gently massaging his temples. Ron felt a headache incoming, and it was still four hours to go at work. He was exhausted; even more so with the knowledge that his desk was barely visible because of the mountain of paperwork he needed to go through. Kingsley had been on at him for weeks about a report on a cursed book too; a report Ron had put off writing. He was an Auror for Merlin's sake, meant to be out chasing dark wizards alongside Harry and their colleagues. Not writing all these bloody reports in the claustrophobic little rathole the Ministry dared call an office. Well, dared to call his office anyway.

Ron was suddenly shivering, the tea he had spilt felt cold on his legs. In his rage, he had forgotten to dry his trousers when he cleaned the floor and put the mug back together. Ron muttered a few more curse words, grateful he was alone in the break room this early Friday afternoon. He proceeded to dry himself with the help of his wand.

The doors swung open, and Ron caught sight of Harry's raven black hair. He shot Ron a quick, worried look, holding the latest issue of the Daily Prophet in his hand.

"All right, mate?"

"Fine," Ron replied through gritted teeth, his wand hand hovering over his legs, the other gesticulating to the sink. "Dropped the sodding tea mug, is all…" His tongue grazed the back of his teeth, it still stung a little from when he accidentally scalded himself.

"Shit," Harry said, adjusting his spectacles with his forefinger. "Didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"No." Ron shook his head, continuing to move his wand over his trousers until he was all dry.

Harry took out a glass from the cupboard above the sink, which was in level with Ron's head. Ron shifted a little to give his best mate room to fill the glass with water and watched as Harry eagerly gulped it down. The Prophet was resting under his arm.

"Look, I know you've been feeling kinda low lately…" Harry said, putting down the glass to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, "But I've got something right here that might cheer you up." He grinned, holding up the newspaper for Ron to see, before thrusting it into his hand. "Look at page five."

Ron opened up the paper on the said page. There, under a few ads, was a moving picture of a giant circus tent and some workers in front of it, busy setting up what looked like a carousel. Ron frowned at the photo, wondering what exactly Harry had meant when he said it would cheer him up. As if reading his mind, Harry answered before Ron had time to say anything at all.

"Carnival," he said excitedly, stabbing his finger at the news article under the picture. "They've set up one on an empty field just outside London for the weekend. It's Muggle-owned, but they're keeping everything hidden with charms just as usual. I'm taking Gin tomorrow, and we'd like for you to accompany us. You seriously need to get out, Ron."

"Harry… I don't know if that's such a good idea." Ron was saying the words before he could stop himself. He looked out the window, watching the grey sky. The rain was pouring down as usual, and the world seemed just as ugly as Ron felt. He shrugged. "Think I'll just stay in this weekend. Rest up for next week."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You hide in that flat of yours every weekend. Come out with us, live a little. Besides, if you don't come with, I'm pretty sure Ginny'll throttle us both with her bare hands. You know how she can get. I think she's a bit worried about you, but she's too proud to admit it." Harry's cheeks turned a little pink. "Don't tell her I said that. And don't tell her I told you that taking you to this carnival-thing may or may not have been her idea…"

Ron managed a tiny grin. "So I don't have a choice then, do I?"

"Nope," Harry said, refilling his glass from the tap. He snagged back the newspaper from Ron's grasp. "No staying in tomorrow for you."

Ron knew he should be thankful, really, for having Harry, and he supposed, Ginny too. And yeah, he was. Ron could count on Harry for anything. He could tell Harry anything.

Except this. Ron didn't want to seem whiny, even though Harry already kind of knew.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. He had tried to find valid reasons for this to make any sense at all, only to find that there were none. It had been going on far too long, but no matter what he did, it just wouldn't fucking stop. The constant emptiness.

Ron knew he had always been a little more unhappy than others. Growing up in his family and eventually attending Hogwarts with Harry and Hermione, he had gotten used to the unhappiness and hidden it beneath a laid back attitude and a good sense of humour. It protected him like a shield. He buried his feelings deep within himself in favour of being there for his friends, shrugging his thoughts off because Harry and Hermione were more important. For the most part, it worked, and when it didn't, they always got through it. Ron always came round.

Until one day after the battle was over, it didn't work anymore. Little did he know, that his evil thoughts, insecurities and feelings of inadequacy he worked so hard on burying and ignoring, just grew and grew until he was shoved somewhere dark and it became harder and harder to pretend they weren't there. It felt as though the Slytherin locket still hung around his neck sometimes, making it impossible to breathe.

He always felt like he was never good enough; a constant disappointment. All his siblings were either married or in steady relationships; some of them had already gotten children. Even Charlie, the forever alone one had met a nice bloke, and their mother was already knitting tiny baby boots, in case they decided to adopt. Meanwhile, she fussed over Ron and worried how alone he was. The constant echo of her 'You don't handle loneliness very well, dear' rung in his ears, making him feel like a burden to her because he wasn't playing happy families like everyone else. That his relationship had ended while the others' were thriving. Ron was sure Hermione had left him because she was tired of how he was.

Not that she ever said that aloud when she said she wanted to break up. She didn't say much, actually, except that she wasn't in love anymore. That they were better off as friends. Hermione had cried when she told him that, that awful Tuesday morning a little over a year ago before they both went to work. Ron had been too shocked then to say much about it, but when it finally dawned on him, he was losing his girlfriend; he was hurt and broken that he wasn't wanted anymore. They were still friends, but not as close as they used to be. Ron felt ashamed that he wasn't over the hurt yet. He was such a failure. Hermione had a new boyfriend now, and a brightness in her eyes Ron had never seen during their relationship. She was now seeing Draco Malfoy-out of all fucking people- and he wondered how exactly that romance had happened. The fact that it was Malfoy hurt more than he'd liked to admit too; Ron had always had a hunch she wanted someone more classy. That's what it felt like at least.

If I only was different, maybe she wouldn't have left me.

No matter how hard Ron tried, he just couldn't 'cheer up' like they always suggested, either. Hermione, his family, Harry. Everyone. He didn't know why he couldn't do it. His life had been good, for the most part. He had a strong, loving family. Harry was the one with all the baggage and not even he was so gutted he couldn't move on at all. Ron struggled to get out of bed each morning and force himself to show up at the office.

Work was shit too. He was a shit Auror, he knew, and he shouldn't be there. They'd been working for a couple of years now, and Ron noticed that Kingsley rarely sent him out on missions anymore, which only proved his point. Rarely was a bit of an understatement too, he never sent him out on missions anymore. He seemed to get more paperwork than his colleagues; Kingsley always made him write reports of missions he hadn't been a part of. His deskbound duties made him feel like it was just a matter of time before he would get sacked. Ron had no doubt about it.

He sighed, rubbing his temples some more. Harry still stood beside him, now looking down on the mug Ron had put down in the sink.

"Would you like me to make more tea for you?" He asked, nodding to the mug.

Ron gave him a small smile. "Yeah, thanks, Harry."

Fucking hell, was he ever going to have a good night's sleep?

Ron woke up in his flat the following morning, staring bleary-eyed at the sunlight flooding into the room from behind his yellowish, too-thin curtains in his small bedroom. He groaned in frustration and let his head fall back onto the pillow. His large hands shot up to his face, gently scrubbing over the pale, freckled skin.

The clock on his bedside table told it was ten am, and he had only been asleep for the past four hours. The night had been full of restless tossing and turning and a lot of dark thoughts. The voices in his head kept bugging him, kept whispering mean things in the darkness of the night.

You're not good enough.

Nobody loves you.

Nobody will ever love you.

You're a shit Auror.

It's just a matter of time before you get sacked. Kingsley is just waiting for the right moment to tell you.

It almost ate him alive.

Ron knew he had some sleeping draughts stored in his bathroom cabinet, but he couldn't be arsed with getting up in the middle of the night to take one. He didn't like taking them, cause he didn't like the way they made him disappear into a dark abyss, losing all control over himself. By six in the morning, his body gave in to exhaustion, and he fell into some sort of light sleeping state that made him feel even more tired waking up than he would have felt like if he hadn't slept at all.

Ron stared up at his stained ceiling and groaned again, realising that today, he had agreed to go to the bloody carnival with Harry and Ginny. He contemplated sending them a Patronus, telling them he had a migraine and needed to stay home. But Ginny could be so annoyingly stubborn and would probably see through the lie right away.

He sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, somehow hauling the rest of his long, naked body up too. Ron sat there for a while, rubbing the back of his neck, allowing the muscles in his body to wake up fully. He then reached forward to pull the sheer curtain aside to see out the window. The glass was stained and in a desperate need of cleaning, as was the rest of the shoebox he currently lived in. His bedroom alone would have his mother going berserk, he could almost hear her voice ringing in his ears.

'Ronald Billius Weasley! How dare you let your home fall apart like this?!'

Somehow it all was ironic. Being a war hero and having his Auror's job had left him with more money than he had ever had in his life, yet he still lived in the cheapest neighbourhood their world had to offer, and in the smallest flat. Ron could almost hear his teenage self moan about this: 'Oh, come on, mate. If this is all you've got for us, I don't think I'd ever want to grow up.'

'Well, sucks,' Ron thought bitterly to himself as he stretched out with his arms lifted above his head, squinting at the blue, almost cloudless sky outside. A promise of a lovely spring day hung in the air, the cobblestone paths beneath his window already full of activity. Witches and wizards in colourful clothing moved in all directions, but Ron noticed they seemed to walk more up than down the narrow road. Probably where the carnival was.

This flat hadn't been what he wanted for himself as an adult- nothing in his life after the battle had turned out the way he wanted. Ron was supposed to have lived a good, happy life in his house with the woman he'd secretly been pining after while they were in school. He had been convinced that as long as he had her, he would be happy by default. Eventually. The happiness never came, and when Hermione left him, it felt as though his last hope he had so desperately clung to walked out the door.

And now it was too fucking late.

He just couldn't be bothered with spending all that money he had dreamt about spending all his life now. It felt like there was no use when he had no one to share it with. Materialistic things couldn't bring him joy. He might have thought that at one point in his life, but it had all been a lie.

With heavy feet, Ron dragged himself into the tiny bathroom opposite his bedroom. He made a face to his own reflection in the small mirror above the sink - flaming red hair stood up and seemed to have developed its own life overnight. Ron knew he looked horrible, dark purplish-black bags under his morning-puffy eyes, a reddened mouth and a blank stare. He was paler than usual, light brown freckles barely visible due to his ghostly white skin. His gaze dropped to the Chudley Cannons-orange round rug on the floor, while he leant sideways to turn on the shower. Ron hissed as the cold water splashed his legs and feet when he stepped inside before it turned to a pleasant warm stream that steamed up the mirror. He lifted his head to let the hot water wash his face, closing his eyes and enjoying himself for a few minutes. Ron loved the way the water soaked his hair and poured down his back, and he almost wished he could have stayed there forever, not going out to face the world ever.

The relaxing moment soon came to an end though, as a shrill voice cut through the silence of his flat, making Ron's body tense up and his hand reach to turn off the water fast.

"Ron! Roooon! Where are you?!"

He heard the fast pace of feet getting closer, the shouting voice irritably muttering something between roaring his name. He understood almost immediately it belonged to his sister.

"Ron, mate! It's just us!"

Harry's voice. They must have gotten in from the Floo. Or Apparated. Ron swore beneath his breath; he had hoped for them to wait a little longer before showing up. Or possibly forgot about it altogether. Which he knew wouldn't happen, so he didn't know why his mind came up with that thought. Ginny shouted again, and before Ron could answer her, the door to the bathroom was flung open.

"RON — Oh!"

His sister stood on the threshold, blushing, closing the door in a flash once she saw the state he was in. Ron had luckily been quick to snatch a towel from the rack next to the shower, so she had seen nothing she wasn't supposed to see. It didn't stop either of them from becoming embarrassed, though.

"Fuck's sake!" Ron bellowed to the white, wooden door she just slammed shut, "Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Why don't you lock the door?!" Ginny bellowed back from the outside.

"BECAUSE I LIVE ALONE!"

"Ron!" Harry's voice again, accompanied by the sound of his fist as the man knocked at the door three times, "Have you eaten anything yet?!"

"No!" Ron shouted, shivering in the small shower as the cold air hit his body, and he wrapped his arms around himself, still holding the towel.

"Then we'll make some breakfast, and you can finish showering, all right?"

Fifteen minutes later, Ron had both showered and was dressed. Harry had found some eggs and bacon in the fridge, which he had fried while Ginny had made some toast and poured orange juice into three large glasses. The smell of the food was delicious. Ron felt his stomach rumble; he hadn't realised how hungry he was. Usually, he devoured food like no other, but ever since that emptiness settled deep within him, he hadn't been able to enjoy it as much as he used to. Ron often forgot to eat. It was weird how that had changed.

The three of them fell into an easy conversation as they started on the food. Ron chewed, swallowed and forced himself to smile now and then. And speak. He noticed how Harry and Ginny kept shooting him looks, their eyes worried. Or maybe it was just his imagination that they were.

Because they don't really care.

You're just an obstacle to them.

Ron forced the annoying voices away and kept eating in silence. The eggs grew in his mouth as he fought to swallow them down.

"The weather's nice today," Harry commented, craning his neck to watch the life outside. "Bet there'll be loads of people at the carnival. Heard some people at work talking about it."

"What?" Ron lifted his gaze to look at his best mate. He'd been staring down at his breakfast plate and watched the slightly burnt bacon. "Have they?" Ron hadn't heard anything about it. He noticed how a faint blush coloured Harry's cheeks.

"Well, yeah, a bit…" he answered. "Might have been some mentions of it yesterday while… While we got back from that Beddingfield case…"

Ginny suddenly began coughing, glaring at Harry over the table.

"Oh… right," Ron said, resuming to look down at his plate. He couldn't help the gloomy feeling building up in his body hearing Harry talk about a case he hadn't been a part of. The Beddingfield case had been a particularly tricky one. A dark wizard with a vengeance for Voldemort in mind and he had been challenging to catch. Harry had spent weeks looking for him together with a couple of their colleagues while Ron had been deskbound writing those bloody reports. He had wanted to come along and help, but Kingsley had been uncompromising about it when Ron had tried to convince him to change his mind. It was loads of bollocks his boss wouldn't allow him - he wasn't a kid for Merlin's sake! Plus, he had fought side by side with Harry in that fucking war, so why Kingsley stopped him from being out on the field with the others was beyond him.

Harry shot him an apologetic look over the table. The conversation faded out. After breakfast, Ginny gathered the dirty plates, glasses and utensils and charmed them to wash themselves in Ron's sink. They picked up on the easy conversation again, talking about everything else than work as they put on shoes and cloaks to join the herd of people outside.

It was as if somebody had puked the rainbow in the middle of an ample, empty space, surrounded by rather big trees. The three of them had Apparated to the carnival area instead of catching a Portkey, as it wasn't far and seemed more comfortable than to jostle against everyone else, as they all tried to get a spot on the bewitched items used for travelling.

They seemed to be in the middle of some kind of forest, Ron thought as they took in the view in front of them. If Muggles looked at it, they would only see an empty field and not think about it further, but for every witch and wizard in the land, the area had sprung to life in every thinkable colour. The smells, sounds and visions were almost too much to take in. A large red and white striped circus tent was placed in the middle of the grassland, different booths for food, souvenirs, toys, snacks, drinks and everything else from A to Z going out from both sides. A whirligig with a bright neon sign was seen in the distance, a grand Ferris wheel and lots of other merry-go-rounds. Ron inhaled the smell of popcorn hanging in the air as he, Harry and Ginny slowly made their way to the ticket booth to join one of several available queues for entering the carnival area. A fee needed to be paid for entering. The place was packed with people; they waved to Dean, Seamus, Neville and Hannah, who stood in a queue not far from theirs.

Ron, already taller than average, stood on his tip-toes to see over the others' heads, trying to work out which queue was the shortest. They all seemed almost equally as long. His heels barely touched the ground again before he noticed two people passing by out of the corner of his eye. Harry barely had time to warn him before Hermione's uncharacteristic giggles echoed out through the air. Her brown, bushy hair bounced softly as she walked past them hand in hand with Malfoy. She turned to wave to Harry and Ginny, and she did say hello to Ron too, or so he supposed. Because at that moment he bent down, suddenly very busy with tying his already tied shoelace, which took so much time that Hermione and Malfoy just couldn't wait for him to be finished and Ron needed to focus so he couldn't lift his head to say hello. When he got up to his full height again, he saw them slipping quickly past the gates into the carnival area. Of course, fucking Malfoy wouldn't need to queue like everyone else.

Ginny kicked him gently with her foot. "Ron, you can't keep doing this forever. Avoiding them. It's ridiculous. Makes you look stupid."

"I'm not avoiding anything!" He frowned at her. "I talk to Hermione sometimes, just not… when he's around, that's all. What the hell does she see in him?"

"I don't know, mate," Harry said, and Ron could tell there was honesty in his voice. He turned to face both siblings. "Listen, when we get to the ticket booth, I'll pay for us all. It'll be my treat."

"Thanks, Harry," Ron said, still looking after Hermione and Draco, "But you don't really have to pay for me… Not now." He blushed a little; the lack of money during his childhood still bothered him. He still remembered how it felt not being able to afford anything he wanted or wished for.

"I know," Harry smiled, "but I'm paying anyway."

Ron smiled back, trying to fight off the voice in his mind telling him he wasn't good enough.

Harry's only being nice, trying to cheer you up.

About thirty minutes later, it was finally their turn to purchase tickets. Harry, taking the lead, took out his wallet and smiled politely to the old witch behind the till.

"Three tickets, please."

"All right," the old witch said, her long fingers pushing down a few buttons on the cash register. She gestured towards brightly coloured bracelets in a basket next to her. "You need these to enter. With them, you can come and go as much as you'd like without having to pay again."

As if on cue, another younger witch came up behind the counter to help them put the bracelets on.

"They're bewitched to change colour depending on your mood," she cheerfully explained as she put on Ron's. His immediately turned blue. "Oh, you're not very happy, are you sweetheart?" she asked, giving him a sympathetic look. Ron frowned at her, ignoring to answer.

The sun stood high in the sky. Ron watched lots of little kids running around, laughing while tiny toys flew in front of them. The atmosphere was cheery and loud and reminded him a bit of the Quidditch world cup, except that this time everything was peaceful and well.

They had really gone all out with this thing. The first thing greeting Ron, Harry and Ginny was a big, grey and battered haunted house with real ghosts with a little sign next to it that said: Bring your partner and enjoy our frightening journey among our lovely, yet scary ghosts! Not for children under seven.

Somebody had made a romantic walking path for couples to enjoy next to it, then Ron saw a tent where couples could get their picture taken… Come to think of it, the more he looked around, the more he noticed that the carnival was more about couple's activities than anything else. There were a lot of wizarding families there on vacation, but everywhere he turned, he saw couples holding hands, sharing ice cream, kissing and there was even a booth where couples could get married. Ron whirled around, shooting Ginny and Harry a dirty look. They had taken him to some bloody couple's fest! Was this a joke?!

It felt like they were throwing in his face how alone he was. Everything in this bloody place served as a reminder that he was.

Ron was about to say something, to protest wildly and possibly go home, but he was interrupted by a knock on his shoulder.

"Ronald?"

Luna stood behind him, beaming. She was there with her father, holding his arm, a dark purple cloak around her shoulders and a multi-coloured knitted beret on her head. Her long, dirty-blonde hair was hanging down her back, silver eyes round with sunlight reflecting in them when they met his blue.

He hadn't seen Luna Lovegood in a long time. She was close friends with his sister, but Ron rarely met her himself.

"Oh, hello!" Ginny said brightly, already hugging her before Ron got any chance to speak. "So nice to see you! You too, Mr Lovegood!"

"Hello, hello," said Mr Lovegood, waving to them. He smiled feebly. "So lovely to see you all."

"Yes, very!" Harry's voice now. "Finally something fun happening, eh? Been a long time since there was an event…"

"Yes…" Luna said in her dreamy voice, "We've been enjoying ourselves all morning, haven't we Daddy? We're about to leave now though, Daddy needs some rest, so I am taking him home. Anyway, I hope you'll have a wonderful time. So nice they set up something like this for us to enjoy…"

"We thought so too," Ginny replied. "We're out walking my brother…" She nodded teasingly to Ron and nudged him playfully in the side. Ron, who hadn't said much, anything really, scowled and felt the hot blush on his cheeks. Bloody Ginny. "He doesn't get out very often."

Luna shot Ron a curious look he really couldn't place. "That's nice. Weather's lovely today."

"It-it's not like that." Ron made a mental note to kick Ginny later on. Why did she have to say something like that? It didn't matter how old they got. Ginny was still an annoying little sister, always pulling his strings.

"It so is."

Fucking Ginny.

"I'm happy for you that you are out enjoying yourself, Ronald." Luna actually smiled, looking at the still blushing Ron. "And, if you'd like something fun to do," she said, turning to point to a small, secluded area to their left, "There's a vending machine over there that gives you pleasant little messages on pieces of parchment. All you have to do is stick a coin into the machine, and you'll get a happy little quote to enjoy." Luna's gaze dropped to Ron's right wrist, where the witch had put the mood-changing bracelet. "It might cheer you up, Ronald," she said understandingly as if she knew what the colour suggested. Ron stuck his hand quickly into his pocket, ashamed. None of the others' bracelets had a blue colour.

'You're not very happy, are you, sweetheart?' The witch's voice echoed in his mind. Bloody hell.

"Oh, we will definitely be trying that!" Ginny tugged on both Harry's and Ron's arms. "Come on, you two! Let's go try all the fun things!"

They said goodbye to Luna and her father. Ron looked over his shoulder and saw them walking towards the exit. The bright beret on her head stood out in the ocean of people. The colours were playful and cheery; he couldn't help but wonder if the beret was homemade and if Luna had knitted it herself. He shook his head, that was a bloody weird thought.