Long Road Towards Maturity

September 4^th 1997,

Dear Diary,

First of all, I should reassure you detention yesterday went fine. Of course, it had a lot to do with the fact that Snape was still too unwell to supervise it. We had to serve it under Mister Filch, the caretaker of our school. We had to clean the trophy room, all of it, without magic.

But first I should explain how come Draco Malfoy has come to stop being the one making fun of me. It happened during this summer, so that means that development hasn’t been written down in any diary.

Well, it started innocently enough. I can’t quite remember what happened prior to it to make Draco realise it, but whatever it had been, he’d taken full advantage of it.

At first the fact that I was a pureblood, and not really what you could call from a ‘loyal’ family, still didn’t mean Draco really cared for me that much. Oh, I know Draco never wanted to be a Death Eater, but neither did he want to be a blood-traitor, nor a spy. Fate had just forced him to decide, and luckily for us, he chose the good side.

But back on track: Draco had found out that for some reason, being extraordinarily nice to the girls in the house, rattled Ron like nothing else. Hermione Granger didn’t really care for the blond being nice to her, I know she saw right through his act, and she didn’t want to play his game.

Besides, I think Hermione Granger hasn’t really put all the hurtful things Draco said to her in the past behind her. And to be truthful, despite his honourable acts against Voldemort, he still didn’t really see Hermione as a fully deserving witch. Even now, I can hear the prejudice he has for Muggleborns in his speech, though he’d put Hermione Granger in a slightly higher level then the ‘common’ Muggleborns.

But I know this isn’t just something you can just switch off. Really, I think it’s the only thing he can still cling to from his previous beliefs. And the best way to convince him he’s wrong, is not by attacking his pride! Anyway, Ginny played the game sometimes, when she felt like pestering her brother…

With me, it was a different story. I didn’t really intend to play any game, really. It’s just that I find it hard to be affronted when someone is nice to me, for a change, even when I can see it isn’t truthful.

I guess it just started there really… There were times this summer when we would find each other alone in one of the rooms… Mostly we worked in silence on some homework, or occupied ourselves with some or the other reading material. Very rarely we talked a bit.

But when we talked it was meaningful: short, cryptic messages, sometimes. But meaningful all the same. I like to think he feels like I can understand him, somehow, and I also like the way he feels like I’m his ‘protégée’. It is nice to have somewhat like a big brother figure worrying over you without hovering and being ridiculous.

Besides, I still annoy Draco, too, with my feelings of devotion for Ronald. I think it’s amusing when he complains about what I can possibly see in ‘the Weasel’. It makes it that much more fun…

Speaking of Ronald, I really ought to write down what happened today at Hogwarts, but I’m getting tired, since it’s quite late. I’ll write about it tomorrow, so I can catch enough sleep for now.

Until next time,

L.A. Lovegood

***

Ron did not have a good day… After worrying himself to sleep last night, he was in an awful mood. First of all: Ron Weasley didn’t worry. Secondly, he never lost sleep over anything, and thirdly, all that tossing and turning had made him hungry last night, and he couldn’t risk trying to get to the kitchens without Harry’s Map or Cloak…

Furthermore, why should he have to worry about the situation? Ok, Hermione wouldn’t be his, so that did make for a slight dent in his future plans… But plan B was coming around nicely. Whatever Hermione and Ginny had done to manipulate the rumour mill, he was now the hottest guy in Hogwarts, which meant he had the girls swooning over him.

This was supposed to be a good thing?

Ron’s head hurt by thinking over that question all night. His foul mood during the course of the day did nothing however to stop the silly witches at Hogwarts to see reason again.

Though the ridiculousness had worn of a bit. He still caused many girls to blush whenever he passed them, but the blatant sickly gushiness had calmed. Much to Ron’s relief.

This meant that by the end of the day, his mood was mellowing. By the time for his daily visit to Harry, he was calm and not ready to throttle the first idiot who looked at him the wrong way. He arrived just in time to see Hermione leave the Hospital Wing.

She didn’t see him, though, and Ron had no desire to be spotted when he recognised the sadness in her eyes. However much he calmed down, he had no tolerance left to deal with a sobbing Hermione!

Approaching Harry’s bed, Ron’s spirits plummeted to a new level of helplessness. The friend he had come to feel for as a special kind of brother looked pitiful. This was supposed to be the man who defeated the greatest dark wizard ever? This was supposed to be a hero?

Ron took the time to really look over his friend. Harry was slumbering, but even in this state he didn’t seem restful. Dark circles around his eyes contrasted sharply against the paleness of his skin. The glasses dangling from his nose looked too big, too rough for the fragility of his face. He hadn’t even dressed today. Still in his pyjamas the blankets were drawn up to his midriff. His pale hands resting on his belly, skin over bone…

Ron couldn’t take it, he turned around, his eyes burning.

After a quick stop to say hello to the HouseElves, he hid in his dorm room for the rest of the evening.

***

September 5^th 1997,

Dear Diary,

I am very worried about Harry. I received many books from my Father with the evening owl, and I went to my room as soon as I was ready with dinner to look for an answer to Harry’s problem. It is becoming urgent, if what I heard from Ginny was correct…

Also among the books were those about the’ pureness’ situation, but Father made me promise not to look those through until I’m ready. I do not know what I am to be ready for, but my Father knows best, so I will wait until I will feel absolutely sure I am ready…

Ronald wasn’t there this evening, which was a relief and a disappointment. These feelings are strange to coexist, and it made my appetite diminish… At least that made my reading Father’s books start sooner. This whole situation about Ronald being admired by most of the girls here at Hogwarts has been a very unwelcome hindrance, though.

I feel very strangely about this. Ronald is special, so it would only be normal for other girls to notice him and have crushes on him… But does this mean I have more rivals than ever before?

Before, Hermione Granger was my rival because Ronald wanted her attention. But it seems now that has seized… I should be happy about this, but I can not feel that… Before everything was safely predictable. Now… I do not know anything…

Oh diary, this is most unsettling! I was to write to you about the enormous progress I made about Harry’s disease! And here I am prattling on about my incomprehensible thoughts!

I suppose I will tell you about it later, when I have studied the whole problem…

Until next time,

L.A. Lovegood

***

A few weeks went on and life at Hogwarts started getting normal, as much as life at the castle was ever normal…

For the Gryffindors, the dynamics had changed. The tumultuous start of the year had smoothened and Ron was starting to lose his crazy fanclub… Well most of them really… A few die-hards were clinging on. Apparently, the ‘hotness’ of the young Weasley was based on his boyish energy and impulsiveness… not his gloomy angstiness…

But Harry Potter was still missing from the trio, and it was felt harshly in the Tower, reflecting on the school as a whole. Now more then ever it was clear how much the three young students had influenced the rest of them. Hermione and Ron were still there, but even their friendship wasn’t the same without Harry.

Ron hadn’t felt like being cheerful or spirited in a long while. The only joy that made him forget his worries was Quidditch. Up in the air, commanding his team, he could set aside the thoughts that tormented him daily. It was so uncharacteristic to see the redhead sulky, but not in a childish way. It was downright scary to see him pensive and tired…

Hermione was burying herself under a workload as never seen before, shouldering the Head duties alone, despite having Draco functioning as temporary Head Boy. Ron couldn’t really blame the Ferret for not taking on more duties, he knew all too well how scary Hermione could be when she wanted to work herself to death…

And scarier she got. Though she still tried to make time for her friends, though rarely, she had regressed totally into the bookish bossy friendless person she was back in the old days… Ron hadn’t the first clue about how to approach her without having the meeting end with an exhausting raw…

Harry still wasn’t doing much better… Though physically he improved, a little… Madam Pomfrey had been forcing him to exercise. Her philosophy went that if he was tired all the time, he might as well get physically tired for real, instead of only having his mental depression weighing on his body…

Even Dumbledore was starting to lose the ability to make Ron’s worries disappear with the faint twinkle that sputtered behind those halfmoon glasses.

Ginny had perfected the ability to cope by acting like nothing major was wrong. She literally kept the Tower from becoming a place of impending doom. Ron didn’t know where she got the energy to keep smiling, but she was keeping everything together… somehow…

But it wouldn’t last. The depressing mood in the air may have been just a few weeks, but something was going to have to give… sooner or later…

*

Ron was stretching his arms above his head, a small smile lighting up his face. It felt good to slave over Quidditch, and it was nice to have a training with real progress.

The smile quickly slid of his face once he saw the repulsive face of the disgraced Slytherin Princess. She was standing there, sneering at him, and the hairs on the back of his neck were raising, expecting trouble… welcoming the straightforwardness of a physical enemy to battle…

What would she do? Attack him again like next time? He was ready for her now, adrenalin from the work-out gave him his edge, and his mind was full of strategic moves and insults he could throw back at her…

Unfortunately… or maybe it was for the best… nothing happened. Pansy just stuck her nose in the air and walked away, it really was quite ant-climatic…

But Ron was left, torn…

Part of him wanted to follow her up to the castle, and search for a fight with the tart… But the depressing tiredness fell over him again. His shoulders slumping, he looked around for his Quidditch equipment. Grabbing it, he walked over to the castle… Steeling himself to go visit Harry…

***

Review, please?