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The day Harry Potter found out he was a wizard was the best day of his life. Meeting Hagrid, who tied Uncle Vernon’s shotgun into a knot. Even after all of this, he laid awake in his cupboard, as a normal, unremarkable eleven-year-old. Uncle Vernon berated or even beat Harry when he cried after nightmares or after Harry Hunting games played by Dudley, but Harry couldn’t help but cry.
That amazing world he had seen in his dream, Gringotts, Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, all of it, a dream. The usual dark of his cupboard under the stairs surrounded him. He was normally a quiet crier, but he let out a small sniffle and prayed that Uncle Vernon didn’t hear it.
“Harry?”
Harry heard the voice of someone from his dream. It couldn’t be true. Ron Weasley, his best friend from the moment they met. He wanted to believe it.
“Harry, are you alright?”
“Ron?”
Ron Weasley was ecstatic when he met Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. They became best friends from the moment they met. Ron usually snored louder than someone apparating, but he couldn’t fall asleep that night. Hearing a quiet sniffle from Harry’s bed was not something he expected to hear.
“Harry?” Ron asked, but nobody answered.
“Harry, are you alright?”
“Ron?”
“Yeah, it’s me. What’s wrong?”
“I thought I was back with the Dursleys…”
“Mate, you’re still at Hogwarts. You’re okay.”
Ron expected Harry to go back to sleep, but he kept hearing the sniffles coming from Harry’s bed. He got up and silently walked next to Harry’s bed.
“Sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine, Ron.”
“What were they doing to you?”
Harry stared at Ron, wondering why he would ask a question like that. Ron looked back at him expectantly.
“They… my uncle would beat me if he heard me crying, especially from injuries. My aunt would berate me when I was sick and worked myself to collapse.“
It disgusted Ron at what they were doing to Harry. It was no wonder why he was so modest.
“That’s not okay, not at all!”
“It was normal to them.”
Ron wanted to hurl at what Harry said. His instincts got the better of him, and he climbed into Harry’s bed and wrapped his arms around him.
“What’re you doing?”
“Relax. It’s what Fred—or George—would do whenever I had a nightmare or couldn’t sleep.”
Harry didn’t want Ron to leave, but argued with him anyway. It didn’t matter in the end, as Ron would not budge. Harry fell asleep and for once, the cupboard or his Uncle Vernon did not plague his dreams.
“You’re all right,” Ron said, and was relieved when all Harry responded with was a rise and fall of his chest.
No more nightmares and no more cupboards, Ron would make sure of that.