six.
Corridors, hallways, compartments. Insignificance, dread, anticipation. Hogwarts Express, get off at Hogsmeade, travel by way of black whatever, on small wooden boats. A slow procession of lights. Another beginning. A new life. Hope.
But so quickly how the lights fade. Finding himself distinctly overshadowed by his new best friend. Harry Potter. It almost seemed like he didn't know just how famous he was- like he didn't understand the significance of defeating He-who-must-not-be-named. And soon Ron learned he actually didn't. But that wasn't to say the rest of the school did. Soon the red Weasley hair became a flash and blur beside The Boy Who Lived. Some learned to ignore it, others chose not to care. Sometimes Ron thought he had to jump and scream to be noticed. He tried it. And it worked, but the attention he received was quite expectedly not the kind he wanted, and his ears turned a bright red. That was the last time Ron jumped and screamed for attention- that year.
