The Start
In sickness and in health.
These five words were normally reserved for wedding vows but somehow, it applied to Ron’s friendships too.
Whenever one of their trio was sick, they’d be dragged by the other two to the Hospital wing, potions shoved down their throats by the mediwitch and a good night’s sleep in one of the beds.The other two would try to stay by the third’s side, Madam Pomfrey always refusing despite their puppy eyes.
In sickness and in health.
The other two would be there when the patient woke up the next morning, ready to walk with their rejuvenated friend to the Great Hall for breakfast. In the case that their friend had already eaten, they’d bring them either to class or the common room, depending on the day. They’d make sure that their friend spent a calmer day than usual.
Pepper up always left Harry with a mild headache, but the boy was used to that.
Not that he should be.
It always left Ron feeling guilty that he couldn’t do more to help him.
His best friend spent most of his time suffering for one reason or another and he never even complained. Ron didn’t know how he did it but he swore to himself to always be by Harry’s side, ready to help him feel just a little bit less in pain if he could. Most of the time he couldn’t, but it was the thought that mattered.
In sickness and in health.
Ron stood also by Harry’s side when he was happy.
Whenever Harry played in a Quidditch match, Ron was in the stands, cheering him on.
When Harry inevitably won the match, Ron was there to high-five him and repress his urge to hug him. He’d congratulate his best friend and party with him in the common room after he’d gotten changed.
In sickness and in health.
Ron was there when Harry received his first ever Yule gift, at the first Yule he had ever celebrated. He was there when they won the House cup their first year, clapping him on the back cheeks burning red from when Dumbledore had awarded him points. He was there when Harry finally got someone who seemed to want him, who had asked him to live with him where he wouldn’t be forced to be beaten and starved everyday.
In sickness and in health.
Until it wasn’t.
Ron would forever regret getting jealous in their fourth year. He’d beat himself up over it for the years to come. He had been jealous of his already rich and famous friend getting the possibility to be both richer and more famous (his jealousy-addled brain had not taken into account that his friend despised fame as much as he did). He had taken out his insecurities and feelings of inadequacy on Harry and had almost destroyed their friendship in the process.
He had felt jealous until his best friend had almost been murdered by a gigantic dragon in front of the whole school. He had then sworn to himself to never leave Harry’s side, despite the crazy situations they could get themselves in.
In sickness and in health.
That, that he had never regretted.