IWSC Season 3 Writing School 7 - School: Mahoutokoro, Year: 1, Theme: Clarity in writing

Word count: 492

A/N: This story was totally not born because I'm struggling with an eating disorder and have been having particular issues with breakfast foods as of late. Totally not.

The Great Hall was bustling as usual. It being a Monday morning, groggy students were filing in, one by one or in small groups, many yawning as they desperately tried to smooth over their crumpled school robes. Some were fervently finishing their homework over their plate of cereal, and the smell of freshly cooked pancakes and porridge filled the air.

One student in particular, however, was not happy. Ron Weasley was eyeing his plate with nothing short of disdain. If his eyes could summon lighting, the food in front of him would have long since burned to crisp.

It was quite an innocuous plate, nothing too out of the ordinary. It was a small bowl of porridge, topped with banana pieces and sprinkle of peanuts, and if one had asked anyone else, they would have gladly taken it as their breakfast. But not Ron.

"What's up, mate?" asked Harry as he began digging into his own breakfast.

"I can't do this," Ron said, dropping his spoon, which hit the bowl with a loud clank that drew a few pairs of eyes from nearby Gryffindors. "This diet is killing me. Where are my pancakes? Where are my sausages? I can't survive the morning on this," he gestured at the porridge in front of him.

"With all due respect," Harry said, lifting a piece of toast to his mouth, "I don't think Hermione is being unreasonable. I think that's a completely normal-sized porridge portion. Plus, she's said she's taking care to include every nutrient or whatever it was in your meal plan, so it's not like she's starving you or anything."

"It's easy for you to say that," Ron grumbled, picking up his spoon again, making a move to stab his porridge over and over again, as though that was gonna transform it into something more personally palatable. "She's not preaching all the 'eat your 5 a day' bollocks to you all the time."

"I'm sure she would be, if she thought my eating habits were that bad," Harry said after a swallow. "She tends to be a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to our lifestyles."

Ron sighed as he continued his vehement staring contest with a particularly provoking piece of banana. "I don't know what's gotten to her after the Battle. I hadn't even planned on coming back to finish seventh year, but she was so adamant."

"Maybe it's her way of coping," Harry said, his bright green irises fixated on something in the distance. "We all have something, don't we?"

Ron pursed his lips, his gaze finally breaking away from the offending banana piece. "I guess," he said.

"Then just let it be," Harry continued, his eyes meeting Ron's.

Still pursing his lips, Ron nodded, picking up his spoon. Knowing he could not delay the inevitable, he lifted a spoonful of porridge to his mouth, mumbling before he took the bite, "I just wish it wasn't porridge, of all things."