If You Love Her (Ron Weasley)

Twenty-Two.

By the time the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff game rolled around, Ron's confidence appeared to be at an unbelievably low point. It had seemed beforehand it was at the lowest it could possibly go, but we had no idea just how depressed the boy could get.

It wasn't uncommon to find him sat alone in the Common Room, staring at nothing in particular, his thoughts ticking through his brain, paralysing him.

"I can't even bring myself to mock him," Fred had said, brows furrowed as he observed his youngest brother, sat with his head in his hands as the rest of the Common Room discussed the game that afternoon.

"Well that wouldn't particularly help, Fred," Hermione stated the obvious, and silence fell among the room.

Merlin knew that Ron couldn't handle the disappointment, and humiliation, of another heavy defeat, more harassment from the Slytherin's, more goals flying past him in front of the entire school.

I always have been empathetic, but ridiculously terrible at actually helping people handle their problems, and I was usually the first person to run in the opposite direction if I caught wind that someone was crying near me.

But something with Ron always was different, and I felt something in my mind pulling me towards him, urging me to offer him some help, a word of kindness.

The opportunity for that never came, however, and before I knew it we were stood in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, butterflies in my stomach as the game kicked off.

It was bitterly cold, and my hands were numb, but all I could focus on was the figure between the goal posts furthest from me, whose shoulders were already slumped in defeat before a Quaffle was thrown. My heart pounded just looking at him.

The only positive thing I could take from the afternoon was that the game was the shortest I had ever watched in my five years at Hogwarts, just twenty-two minutes long.

"I can't bring myself to watch this anymore Eefs," Neville had said, covering his eyes with his mitten-clad hands as Ron missed his fourteenth save in a miraculously short period of time.

"You and me both, Nev," There was nothing left to say, and when Ginny caught the snitch seconds later, a collective release of breath by the Gryffindor spectators was almost audible. The game had ended 240-230 to Hufflepuff, a far better score than anticipated, however that was mostly down to Ginny's admirable performance in ending our suffering prematurely.

The trudge back to the Common Room was a silent one, nobody really knowing what to say. Nobody was more furious than Harry, who was at a loss at how to help his best friend. Everyone knew what Ron was capable of, but he couldn't see it himself, and it was rather frustrating.

"Fair warning, Ron's more miserable than he has literally ever been," Ginny was out of breath when she arrived, making it clear she had ran all the way from the Quidditch pitches, in order to pre-warn us about what to expect when her brother arrived.

"Merlin help us all, nobody smile or he might actually harm someone," Fred tried to joke, but nobody was really in the mood for it.

"Good catch, Ginny," Harry complimented, and though it was genuine, the look on his face betrayed his feelings. He was clearly jealous, which was understandable, he had been Gryffindor's seeker for five years and now he didn't know when he would even get to play again.

"Thanks," Ginny nodded, but she shrugged. "I got lucky. The snitch was dead slow, and their Seeker has a cold. He sneezed at the right time and I capitalised. Anyway, once you're back in the team-"

"I've got a lifetime ban, I'll never be back in the team," Harry pointed out, but Ginny rolled her eyes with a tut.

"You're banned for as long as Umbridge is around, which hopefully won't be too much longer. Anyway, once you're back in the team, I'm thinking of trying out as a Chaser, I prefer scoring," Harry nodded in agreement, but his option to respond was stolen from him when the portrait hole slammed open, and Ron stormed into the room.