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Ronald Weasley could be called a lot of things, especially by his family. He was a little lazy, his head always too far in the clouds and not on his studies or chores, even slightly bit of a whingy git (according to the twins but seconded by his sister). What they could never say was that he was selfish. It’s hard to be when you never truly own anything. His clothing was so second handed to such a degree he was afraid the mending charms would fail any day now. He was constantly having to grow into his shoes or suck it up and lie when his others pinched and crowded. His trunk used to be his older brother Charlie’s and he didn’t feel right scratching through grooved initials on the side, so he very maturely just stated “Ron Was Here.”
Even his wand and rat weren’t even his! After his graduation, Charlie had gotten himself a new wand before he started his new job in Romania and had given his own borrowed one to Ron. The boy had gotten lucky that it seemed to respond favorably since he’d heard the horror stories of what would’ve happened if it hadn’t. It didn’t really like him, he didn’t know how a wand could be cranky but this one was, but it gave off this feeling of “oh I suppose you’ll do.” Which. Maybe it wasn’t nice but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it? Scabbers also sorta felt that way, which honestly he was doing the rat a huge favor in his opinion. He could’ve gone to Fred and George who never hid their plans of wanting to feed it experimental potions. All he wanted the blasted thing to do was yknow, be a bit magical! He did have one thing that he got to choose, it still wasn’t new but no one else really wanted it after he said he’d take it. It was a broken chess set. Ron was pretty sure it had been new (or maybe just gently used) when they first got it but over time in a house filled with children, pieces were broken and fixed awkwardly and the board had so many scuffles that sometimes the pawns and rooks tripped over them would cause a ruckus when you attempted to put them back to rights. But Ron had smoothed down some of the trickier parts of the board using supplies in dad’s shed, and did the same on a few of the more sharper edges of some pieces. After working on it, it was still definitely a used set, but now it was most certainly his.
So ok, maybe he was a bit selfish, but only where it mattered. Like being selfish of the time he got to spend-alone!-with his elder two brothers, or the times where he and Ginny actually got along ok or at least long enough to pull one over on the twins. His most guarded and precious selfish secret though were the nights he had with Percy. When Ron had been younger, he’d been behind in learning how to read and his mother didn’t believe him when he said that the letters literally swam or leapt off the page. She would just yell and punish him for not trying, for being lazy, stating “even Fred and George were reading before this, Ronald!” and “how can Ginny look up to her big brother if he won’t even apply himself?!” But he had been!
Part of his punishment was to be stuck at the table to finish his reading while all the others got to play. And there he would sit, silently crying and begging the letters to just stay still so he can prove to everyone that he wasn’t being needy or bad, that he was smart-he was! His helping hand came from Percy, who would stop his prep reading for Hogwarts to sit at the table and help him.
Who would wipe his tears and make the wateriest tea he’d ever tasted but he’d still finish.
Who at night, when everyone else was seemingly asleep, would let his little brother Ron climb into his bed and read aloud to him, fingers trailing across the words, little by little teaching him how to properly read.
When Percy left the following September for Hogwarts, it was one of the first times Ron felt truly abandoned. For the next few days he would keep to their schedule, just sans the older Weasley, and by then his mother had well and properly gotten off his case. To this day, he couldn’t say if it was because she saw his improvement or if she had just given up. Percy never brought it up so neither did he, but sometimes he would catch the older’s eyes whenever he was reading something and he’d be smiling.
So yeah, he could be selfish about that too Ron guesses. He had his stuff, some which he liked more over another, and he was finally going off to Hogwarts with everyone else where he’d be sorted into Gryffindor, hopefully make a few good friends, get ok grades, and just…be? He was only eleven, he didn’t have a whole lot of future thinking! All Ron had to do right this second was settle into his seat, let Scabbers out for some air, and enjoy the train ride to Scotland (or as well as he could since he was pretty sure his sandwich was corned beef even though his mum knew he absolutely hated corned beef).
“Um, hullo. Do you mind if I join you? Everywhere else seems full.”
Ron looks over to the door to see a much smaller boy with dark messy hair and lopsided glasses, clinging to the door’s handle like it was his last lifeline. Not really having any reason not to, he nodded in agreement and was gifted a bright smile from the other boy. Once the boy was situated inside with his trunk and an empty owl cage (“I was told by an older student that it was easier for Hedwig to fly ahead.”), he plopped into the seat directly in front of Ron, a small shy smile still in place.
“Thank you again. I’m Harry.” Ron merely shrugged, finally giving his own small smile.
“It really wasn’t a problem, I’m Ron.” he was met with the same grin and a “pleasure to meet you.”
“So, are you excited to-to learn magic? Or do you already know some? Are you a first year like me or are you older? What are the houses like? Hagrid didn’t really tell me much about them.” Ron’s eyes widened as more and more questions spewed towards him, parts terrified and amused by Harry’s excitement and the way his eyes sparkled with each new thought (‘green eyes, that’s nice he supposes).
Before he could answer though, Harry suddenly became quiet and his entire being shrunk into himself. “I’m really sorry, I-I didn’t mean to ask so many questions. You don’t, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” He looked and sounded so sad and defeated, how could Ron not want to fix that?
“I’m a first year just like you but I’ve got five older brothers who all went to Hogwarts before me, including three that are still in school that you’ll most definitely be seeing. The only magic I know are mainly household charms, but I don’t know how to cast them. I can just sorta recognize them from the way my mum does them. So, yeah, I am excited to learn other magic. Or at least, real magic since I think the spell the twins taught me-pray you don’t meet them too soon, I’m not joking Harry-is complete tosh since it rhymes and I’ve never heard a rhyming spell outside a fairytale. What else…” Ron paused to remember what were the other questions.
“Oh the houses! Well, my whole family’s been in Gryffindor, which is like one for all those that are brave and stuff but, Idunno about all that. Hufflepuff kinda gets a bad rep as like the ‘leftover’ house since everyone’s really nice and stuff but I don’t think there’s anything really wrong with that. Ravenclaw is the house for all the smarties and book learners, I’m definitely not smart enough for that,”
“I think you’re plenty smart.” Harry quietly interrupted, his eyes shining.
Ron immediately felt the tips of his ears flame red and he was sure his face was starting to match as he wiped at his face to try and stop it. “An-anyway, the last house is Slytherin and they’re like, full of mostly rich pureblooded duffers. Always rubbing it in your face how much better they are than everyone else. Also won’t be getting in there either. So um, yeah. That-that’s all the houses. Like I said, I mostly know about Gryffindor, cos it’s like my whole family’s been there. Except my Great Aunt Muriel who was a Ravenclaw I think, and I’m pretty sure there’s an older cousin who was a Hufflepuff. But they moved away before I was even born so I’m not all that sure.” Again, Ron shrugged not really knowing what else to add. He suddenly wished he’d paid more attention to Percy’s exclamations as he was reading aloud Hogwarts, A History but the book was so dry and boring, it was a wonder how the authors had even stayed away long enough to write it!
Harry’s eyes were wide with fascination at Ron’s words and his smile was blinding. “So you allot of family then?”
Harry’s random question confused Ron but he decided to answer regardless. “I mean I guess? Never really see them outside of really important events and there hasn’t been one of those since I was a baby I think. No one really um, invites us places.” he mumbled the last part, his ears and face beginning to flame in embarrassment. It was hard to say that any remaining extended family was ashamed of them because of their status and lack of wealth and he was also afraid that his newest friend would soon find out and think the same.
“Oh.” Harry’s one word was said so joylessly that the ginger felt a bit bad that he obviously disappointed him. “Well it’s their loss then, I think you’re great.” the dark haired boy tacked on strongly, embellishing his words with a nod. Ron just grinned, not even trying to hide his relief at the other’s words.
“What about your family? Are you the first wizard in your family then?” It would make sense from all the questions he had. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the exact wrong question to ask as Harry flinched and avoided looking at him. He trained his eyes on his fingers as he picked at a band-aid wrapped around one finger.
This gave Ron the new chance to actually look at his new friend, and suddenly he really didn’t like the picture he was seeing. Harry was smaller than him (which was normal unfortunately, he had a feeling he was going to match Bill in height sooner rather than later) but he looked almost tinier than Ginny. His clothes were practically hanging off of them and he could barely stop his nose from wrinkling at even calling them clothes. While his own were a bit old and worn they were at least cared for and mended, Harry’s looked like another gust of wind would unravel his shirt into loose thread. His eyes unconsciously looked further down at his feet and his empathy grew as he realized the shoes the other boy was wearing was more tape than shoe. No wonder Harry didn’t want to talk about his family; he couldn’t believe he’d met someone roughly as well off as his own family.
“S’ok if you don’t wanna talk about it. I shouldn’t have pried.” Surprisingly, Harry just shook his head emphatically as he finally brought his emerald gaze back up to Ron.
“No, it’s a fair question, ‘specially after I asked all those about yours.” He gave a gusty sigh but he finally stopped picking at his fingers. “My parents are dead, they died when I was a baby, but they were apparently magic. I grew up with my aunt, my mum’s sister, and she’s um muggle? Think that’s the term. Anyway, she, my uncle, and my cousin are all non-magic and they had me thinking I was too and that all the frea-weird things that I did were just my imagination. It…it was really nice learning I’m not crazy and that my parents weren’t either.” Harry said softly with an indiscernible look in his eyes.
Ron on the other hand was completely incensed. He knew muggles were a bit barmy, but to actively lie to your own nephew about his magic just seemed unnecessarily cruel. However, he had a feeling that saying it wouldn’t really change anything and worst, it wouldn’t help Harry at all. So he just swallowed it down and decided to just change the subject.
“Well, that means you’ve never played exploding snap, which in my opinion is completely criminal.” There were allot of criminal things happening here since just hiding a magical status answered nothing about the state of his clothing, but for once Ron could be patient. And selfish.
Coveting the look of unbridled relief and happiness that came from Harry and the glee and excitement that stayed as he learned and played the explosive game. No one bothered them the entire train ride except for the arrival of the trolley witch to which Harry gave a few coins to share some juice and chocolate frogs with Ron while the redhead in trade shared some of the thick sandwiches his mother had packed. He could ignore his distaste for corned beef for the touched look his friend gave as he shared his food, even if he was concerned with how quickly he wolfed down the sandwich.
The announcement that they were close to the school came on and Harry again became twitchy and anxious regarding changing in front of another person. Ron couldn’t really relate since almost no one in his family respected personal space (except maybe Percy) but he wanted his new friend to be comfortable so he offered to step outside the compartment long enough for him to change. He was going to need a scrapbook, a lock box, something to start collecting all the smiles the dark haired boy was bestowing onto him because he knew he was going to become greedy.
True to his word, the ginger stepped out and waited in the narrow hall of the train as the other boy changed clothing and noticed a new random chubby boy walking despondently towards him.
“Hey, you-you wouldn’t ha-have happened to see a to-toad anywhere ha-have you?” the boy stuttered out, his eyelashes and cheeks wet with tears. Before he could stop it, Ron felt his face scrunch up in distaste at the thought of being this upset over a toad of all things. From the unchanged look on the boy’s face, he had a feeling it wasn’t his first time seeing it.
“Sorry mate, can’t say that I have.” He did, in a way, feel bad for him. He had a toad for a pet, there were obvious ghouls in his mental attic if he was this upset. The chubby boy just swallowed wetly and nodded, unhelpfully wiping his wet face. Just then, the door behind them shifted and Harry, now dressed in his uniform, poked his head out with the intent to alert his friend when he spotted the pathetic sight of the Toad Boy.
“Oh no, what’s happened? Is he ok?!” he asked emphatically, looking to Ron for answers who merely shrugged unhelpfully.
“He said he’s lost his toad and asked if we saw it and I told him we haven’t.” All true even if it was a bit harsh.
Harry took on a thoughtful expression. “You said you recognized a bunch of household spells. Is there one for finding lost objects?” Ron suddenly felt breathless that the other boy had taken his off said words to such consideration.
“I mean, yeah I suppose.” he shrugged self consciously.
“Do you think maybe, you could give it a try?” Why did he have to look at him, all hopeful and glittery eyes? What sort of joke were the fates attempting to crack?
“I don’t…I dunno if I could even do it yknow? Don’t wanna bungle it all up and make things worse.” Now it was Ron’s turn to be anxious and avoidant, his hands clenching and uncleching at his side. For all his rotten luck, he’d accidentally banish the damned toad to the Scottish Loch’s.
Harry, as if he could somehow read the redhead’s inner most thoughts, frowned and softly took hold of one of his hands. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. But, I think you’re allot more capable than you realize.” he told him softly but firmly.
Ron could feel the air steal out from his lungs and for a few moments, couldn’t even remember to breathe. When was the last time someone had said that to him. Had anyone ever said that to him? Not even realizing it, he began to nod as precious air finally began to come back to him and he turned to the still blubbering boy in front of them. “What’s the toad’s name?”
“Tre-Trevor! His name’s Trevor.” the boy warbled. Ron gave a deep sigh and pulled out his wand, clenching it maybe a hair tighter than he should be and thought of the one charm his mother favored to gather all of the twins hidden pranks.
“Accio Trevor!”
For a moment, nothing happened, and Ron fought to not allow his feeling of shame and inadequacy to show as he knew this would happen anyway. But then, a loud croak startled him as a rather large toad came zooming straight for him so suddenly he barely managed to catch the gross thing.
“Trevor! Oh you naughty thing, where have you been?! Thank you! Thank you thank you so much!” The previously weepy boy was now overjoyed and graciously took his toad from Ron’s hands (thankfully missing the way the boy wiped them on his pants with a gross expression) and thanked both boys profusely.
Harry for his part just beamed as if he knew all along that this would happen and leaned amiably against him, never once letting go of his hand, giving him the brightest look of pride. Another look to covet, another feeling to bloom within his chest as fresh rain fell upon the barren field of his heart.
Ron was a doomed man.
Years later, as he would awake, wet and coughing up lake water with his teeth chattering from the freezing cold to look up to the sight of his best friend, equally wet and chilled, holding him, sobbing but grinning so damnably bright, he would think the same. Then even more years later, as it was now his turn to hold his friend close, sobs choked in his throat and his eyes beginning to blur as he begged for any number of miracles for another glance at those bejeweled eyes, he would remember his fate and he would regret not being more selfish.