A/N: Ron this time, yup. And...that's it. 0.o Oh, and the last group is 5-8-6
because, gosh durnit, I just liked it better that way. The rest are still 5-
7-5 though.

It was a cold night.
Breezes blew the specks of snow
in a windy dance.

Still one boy remained,
flaming hair like a beacon,
bright against the snow.

No one would notice
if he slipped away awhile
to do some thinking.

He could remember,
it now seemed so far away,
the day he'd met him.

The famous Harry,
known to most, 'The Boy Who Lived',
but he'd called him friend.

Until shunted back
by his own fears, alone with
green tinged Jealousy.

He was over it,
or so he hoped. But new fears
mingled with his thoughts.

Harry was his friend.
They'd fought, didn't everyone?
But friendship remained.

No more wishing fame,
he no longer cared for wealth,
though they would be nice.

All he wanted now?
His friend's safety, and maybe a
Sickle for butter beer.