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Thanks to Merry, Sheltie and Nicole. :)

Disclaimer: JKR. Scholastic. WB. Their toys, I'm just borrowing the guys, I promise! Besides, I'd use Charlie more if they were mine. ;)

Ron didn't look up as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast. He refused to acknowledge when the Slytherin table burst into song. Dreading the expressions of those from his own house, Ron couldn't even bring himself to risk a glance around the table.

Instead he followed closely behind Hermione, carefully avoiding walking into anyone. Ron found his seat by instinct. He barely looked away from his plate long enough to snare some toast from a nearby platter.

He was surprised, but grateful, that neither Harry nor Hermione had questioned him about it. Although they knew what troubled him, it was unusual -- well, for Hermione at least -- to let it lie. Especially after the row he and Harry almost had the night before.

Ron didn't bother to pay attention when owls began swooping in with the mail minutes later. There was no one who would be sending him anything. Especially after what had happened, Ron thought with a small sigh.

Because of this, Ron almost jumped out of his seat when a slightly battered owl dropped down before him directly in his lowered line of sight and rattled his plate. He blinked, wary. Surely nothing good could come of this. Chancing a look around, he saw Hermione busy with the Daily Prophet and Harry... Harry's attention seemed elsewhere as well. To his relief, no one else was paying him any mind, either.

With a confidence he didn't feel, Ron reached over and pulled a small roll of parchment from the owl's leg. Once he had, the owl gave a small hoot and flew in the direction of the owlery. The motion, however, drew both Harry and Hermione's attention.

"Ron?" Hermione asked. "What is it?" She was looking at the letter he held and he followed her gaze.

He shrugged. "Don't know."

"Aren't you going to open it?" Harry this time.

Ron met Harry's gaze and saw something flicker there. Something he hadn't seen in a long time. Understanding.

Feeling bold, he turned the rolled up parchment over in his hands. There was a wax seal he didn't recognize holding it closed. Beside the seal, it bore only his name and the word Hogwarts.

"Ron..." Hermione said when Ron was slid his finger under the edge to break the seal. "Don't you think you should show it to someone first?" Her eyes flickered to where Professor McGonagall sat at the teacher's table. She dropped her voice to a whisper: "You know, to make sure it's safe?"

Ron knew she meant well but felt a flicker of annoyance all the same. "Hermione," he replied, also whispering. "Who do you think would waste the time just to get to me?" He looked at Harry as he said the words, but his friend was busy studying his plate, unmoving. Ron managed to stifle his sigh, barely.

"I just meant..." Not acknowledging Hermione, Ron broke the wax seal. He heard her sigh, and the obvious disproval it carried. "Never mind then."

As he unrolled the scroll, Ron immediately recognized the scrawled handwriting within. Confused, he turned the letter over and reread his name on the outside. No, he wasn't crazy -- yet his mind amended with a mad giggle -- the lettering on the outside was unfamiliar, not Charlie's.

Rather impatiently, Hermione asked, "Well? What is it?" Something about the change in her voice, from disproving to curious, made Ron want to laugh.

"A letter from Charlie."

Suddenly the Great Hall -- the people and the noise -- was too much. Ron wanted to read his letter... well, almost anywhere he wasn't so exposed. The memory of his failures the day before, in front of the whole school, was too fresh. He stood so quickly that he hit his knee on the table. Muttering, he said, "I'll see you in class."

Ignoring the startled looks of his friends, Ron grabbed his books and fled the hall. His exit must have caught the others' attention as well. He heard a smattering of Weasley is our King before he was outside the hall and there was nothing but silence.

Ron had almost an hour until his first class. This in mind, and knowing everyone should be at breakfast, Ron headed toward the tower. He wanted to be alone and even if the common room wasn't empty, surely the dorm room would be.

The common room, as it turned out, wasn't empty. A trio of girls, second years Ron noted absently, sat at a table hurriedly studying Potions from the sound of it. They didn't even spare Ron a glance as he passed. He quickly crossed the room to the staircase that wound its way up to the boy's dorms.

Ron was in luck -- the dorm room, at least, was empty. He looked longingly at his bed for a moment. After the excitement of going to see Hagrid, the night had been far too short. Stifling a yawn but determined to stay awake, Ron sat cross-legged on his bed. His books were dropped on the floor, forgotten for the moment.

He was still for a minute, staring at the letter but not reading it. He was comforted by the familiar handwriting, even if he was wary of the contents within. Ron shook his head, there was no time for daydreaming if he wanted to be on time for class -- and he was almost certain Prefects were never late for class. He pushed aside the thoughts that wanted to follow that, thoughts that could suffocate him if he let them.

There was a twinge of guilt. He had never avoided a letter from Charlie before. Usually he ripped into them so fast the paper tore before the wax seal.

It began simply with his name.

"Mum wrote to tell me about your becoming the Gryffindor Keeper." Ron groaned aloud. He wanted to stop reading more than anything, but couldn't. Letters home from Charlie were too rare to ever be ignored completely. "I have to say, I'd hoped you would be a Chaser. We're the best after all, but Keeper will do." Ron imagined Charlie chuckling when he wrote the words.

"I'm just kidding you, little brother, it's great news no matter what position you play. I think by the time you get this (I'm sending it the long way) the first match will be over. Slytherin, no doubt, that always seemed to be first.

"I bet you're nervous, huh? I remember my first match. Oy, that was embarrassing. A bundle of nerves and two left feet on a broom, if there even is such a thing. It was such a mess, let me tell you. So if you're not perfect right away... it's okay. Nobody ever is at this game." Ron snorted, shaking his head.

"But, Keeper and Prefect, good for you! Now all you have to do is come here to work and Mum really will complain you take after me too much... Anyway, I should go. I just wanted to say how proud I am of you, Ron, but you knew that already -- right? Take care of yourself, little brother, maybe I'll see you soon."

The letter wasn't signed.

Ron crumpled the parchment in his hands. He wondered how proud Charlie would be when he found out just how horrible Ron was at Qudditch. Winning was the only thing that made it bearable, and even then only just. And with Harry and the twins banned...

"I doubt your first match was so bad," he muttered, pressing the paper against his knee to straighten it. "You were always good."

A noise sounded from the doorway and Ron jumped. "Geez, Harry," he said, seeing who was there. "Scare me to death, why don't you?"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. He had a peculiar expression on his face. So much so that Ron was about to ask how long he had been standing there when Harry asked, "What did he have to say?"

Ron glanced at the still wrinkled letter and shrugged. "Nothing much." Harry looked as if he was about to say something, but didn't. "Harry? Why are you here?"

The peculiar expression was back. Harry stepped further into the room, although he almost seemed reluctant. Then again, Ron couldn't help but think, with how they had gotten on of late...

"I was worried," Harry said quietly, interrupting Ron's thoughts.

Ron couldn't quite hide his surprise. He thought it sad, that Harry's concern was cause for surprise. Harry winced when Ron asked, "Worried?"

Harry nodded and took a couple of steps into the room. "It's so hard to believe?"

Almost guilty -- almost but not quite -- Ron shrugged.

"He was right you know."

Ron looked at Harry suspiciously. "What? How do you know what he said?"

Shaking his head, Harry moved forward and sat on the foot of Ron's bed. "I don't. But I heard..."

Ron flushed scarlet. "Harry..."

The entire day before had been humiliating enough. What had he done to earn even more embarrassment? He couldn't bring himself to look at his best friend. And even if it was a strained friendship of late, Harry was still his best friend.

"I'm sorry," Harry said a few moments later.

"What?"

Suddenly their roles were reversed. Ron was looking at Harry, but Harry refused to meet his gaze.

"Yesterday... last night. I forgot what it was like. To be new, I mean. How overwhelming it can be." He did look at Ron then, briefly. "Even without that horrid song. I shouldn't have yelled at you for being upset."

Ron wanted to shrug it off, but couldn't. Nor could he think of anything to say.

Harry nodded toward the letter in Ron's lap. "I'm guessing Charlie said something similar?" Ron nodded. "See then?" Harry asked. "It will be okay."

Ron wasn't convinced, but sought to change the subject. "What about you? That old bat won't even let you play anymore." Harry shrugged, but Ron could see the pain Harry tried to hide. "Not fair, that."

Harry shook his head. "No. For Fred or George, either. Fred didn't even do anything." He glanced at the clock. "We're going to be late."

Ron looked at the large grandfather clock. He felt strangely reluctant to leave and end the conversation. "Nah, we've got time."

Harry must have agreed because he didn't make to stand. "Are you okay?" he asked, returning to heavier topics.

Although he didn't feel any more reassured about Quidditch -- or if he was really meant to play it -- Ron felt oddly better about them. He settled on a nod. Let Harry believe what he wanted to believe, Ron decided.

After another glance at the clock, Ron placed Charlie's letter on the table and grabbed his books. "We should go or we really will be late. We've got enough homework without detention, too."

Harry looked as though he might say something else, but didn't. Instead he nodded and retrieved his own books from the floor. "Okay."

As they hurried to class, silent but not oppressively so, Ron was thankful for the smallest of favors. He might still be questionable at Quidditch, but at least he and Harry weren't fighting. He was tired of their constantly being at odds.

And he made a mental note to reply to Charlie even if he wasn't sure how he would get the letter to him. They didn't have an owl at school, since Pig was off with his Mum. Pig was far more reliable than Errol for helping the Order. But he should answer anyway.

Maybe he could even ask if Charlie was going to visit soon. He knew Charlie was working for the Order abroad, though he wasn't supposed to know that most likely. He knew a visit home wasn't likely, but it was worth a try and Ron smiled at the thought.

Harry must have noticed it, because he asked, "What?"

Ron just shook his head, his smile not faltering. "Just thinking."

It must have been answer enough, because Harry smiled back at him. "Okay."

And for that moment, however brief it might be, everything felt like it was supposed to.

end