These Silly Little Troubles

These Silly Little Troubles

Horseface

He was meant to be asleep, but for some reason he just couldn't doze off that night. Instead, Ron Weasley simply lay there with his eyes closed, breathing in and out. The other third year boys were all sleeping; a few beds away, Neville was snoring softly. Down at the foot of his bed, Scabbers was curled up in a deep slumber.

Pulling the sheets up higher around himself, Ron turned on his side trying to find a comfortable position.

He quite liked his bed at Hogwarts. He liked the dormitory too. Even though he had to share a room with five other boys, it was still nicer than the tiny space he called a bedroom at home. Ron's eyebrows suddenly furrowed together; his eyes still shut.

Why did his family have to be so poor? It wasn't fair. It was rotten luck the way some people - like the Malfoys - had loads to spare, whereas the only new things Ron could look forward to were a pair of hand-me-down robes and tatty books. Third-time hand-me-down robes and tatty books to be exact.

One day, he would be rich. He would be able to buy whatever he wanted and he wouldn't need handouts from other people. No one would ever be able to make fun of him again.

A low rustling to his right broke Ron out of his train of thought. Blearily, he opened one eye, wincing in surprise at the light. As everything slowly came into focus he saw Harry sitting up in bed, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the window. Opening his other eye, he stared at his best friend. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but for some inexplicable reason he stopped himself.

Instead he lay perfectly still, and just watched.

Harry was looking at a small book. Ron recognised it as the photo album Hagrid had given him in his first year. The book lay open on Harry's lap, but it was too far away for Ron to see what he was looking at.

The wistful smile on Harry's face gave him some idea though.

"I miss you guys," said Harry softly, "even though I never got to know you." He lifted his head away from the book.

Ron shifted slightly, so as not to be seen, but the darkness that his bed hangings provided was enough to conceal him. Suddenly, Harry looked worried. He turned his attention back to the photograph.

"I wonder if you'd be proud of me," whispered Harry, a slight tremble evident despite the low tone he spoke in.

Perhaps it was the moonlight, but Ron thought that Harry looked very tired and much too old. His normally bright green eyes were dull and his shoulders sagged as though he was carrying a heavy weight on his back. Harry hung his head, no longer looking at the photo album.

"I wish you were here."

Harry slipped a hand under his glasses and wiped his eyes. Ron turned away from his friend and settled back down into bed, his heart feeling very heavy. He took a deep breath to relieve some of the tightness in his throat.

Suddenly, being poor wasn't so bad.