It was a cool, overcast morning. Ron ambled down to the lake by himself; his stomach felt like it was accommodating several intoxicated Cornish Pixies. It was the first Quidditch match of the season - Gryffindor versus Slytherin. There was always so much hype about this match; the turnout was generally more than other matches. As usual, Ron was nervous. His skin had faded to a sickly green beneath his pattern of freckles, and his mouth was dry. Ron had gotten up earlier than the rest of the team; so much earlier, in fact, that Harry was still sound asleep by the time Ron had showered and dressed. The Great Hall, albeit almost empty, was an indistinguishable blur of red and green. He sat alone at Gryffindor table, the potent smell of eggs and bacon burning his nostrils.

There were more Slytherins than Gryffindors in the Great Hall; the bellowing of ‘Weasley is our King’ seemed louder than usual as there was no-one to tell him ignore it. Ron tried his best to stick it out, but when the jeering became too much to handle, he pushed away his hardly touched plate and decided to go for a walk around the grounds. He could feel the edges of his ears flushing as red as his hair, which was a sure sign that he was getting embarrassed.

It was breezy outside the castle; difficult enough weather conditions for an already unbalanced Keeper. He gazed at the sky - Ron could easily spot the place where the sun was struggling to break through the cloudy barrier. He sighed. Sunlight wasn’t going to make it any easier – if anything, it was going to make it worse. His eyes automatically squinted at the merest ray of sun; it would not do him much good to be squinting in perhaps the most important game of the year. Ron sat down at the edge of the lake. It was his second year as Gryffindor Keeper - why hadn’t his nerves gone away? His excuse was growing old - fast. None of the other members of the team got like this before a match. He didn’t know if it was because of their sheer determination to win, or simply because they just didn’t have feelings. Or perhaps it was because he alone had a song dedicated to his imminent and inevitable failure. Ron exhaled bitterly and ran his long fingers through his hair. It was just so typical.

He thought everything would have changed when he joined the Gryffindor team and became a prefect; after all, he was following in the footsteps of his successful older brothers. Ron reflected on all his brothers’ achievements. Bill, who was elected a prefect in his fifth year and eventually moved on to become Head Boy. Charlie, who was also elected prefect and Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Percy, also a prefect and Head Boy. Fred and George, admired Beaters on the Gryffindor team... Frankly, it didn’t matter what he did; it was always going to be done before him. He’d come half way in most things; he was good, but he wasn’t good enough. He’d never be the best.

And then there were his friends. Ron didn’t blame them for being better than him; they couldn’t help it any more than he couldn’t help being average. He knew it from their first day at Hogwarts; Ron was always going to be known as Harry’s sidekick. How could he possibly not? This was the Boy who Lived, who survived and almost defeated the Dark Lord at barely a year old. Not to mention continuing to prevent his return for several years now.

Ron’s life, however, was always predictable. Even his friendship with Hermione Granger was one-sided; Hermione was the cleverest witch Hogwarts had seen in centuries. She was destined to go far, break boundaries and reinvent the values and rules of magic. And Ron? Ron was destined to follow in the shadows of his talented friends and family, settling down for a life of heart wrenching mediocrity. He had resigned himself to that lonely fact. Ron would forever be second best.

He gathered a handful of small pebbles, stood up and angrily chucked them into the lake. Ron had never mastered the skill of skipping stones, so he settled for hurling them as far into the lake as he could. Only when his arm began to ache did he stop. However, he did not sit back down. Instead, Ron continued to stand and gaze blankly at the protruding tentacles of the Giant Squid. After a few moments of silent contemplation, Ron felt someone stir behind him. He swiftly turned around.

“Hi, Ron,� said a dreamy voice.

“Oh, hey, Luna.�

She regarded his face thoughtfully. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the match?�

Ron sighed and kicked feebly at the ground, avoiding the question.

Luna cocked her head to the side. “Are you nervous?� she asked.

Ron’s face flooded scarlet, but he shook his head vehemently. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, as if he were trying to prevent himself from vomiting.

She nodded wisely. “It’s the Doodle Shadowed Nooks.�

Ron couldn’t be bothered to pretend he knew what she was on about; he allowed himself liberal bafflement.

She looked shocked. “You must know about the Doodle Shadowed Nooks! I’ll get Daddy to write a nice long case study on them for you in next week’s edition… Actually, it might be the week after that. There’s been a sighting of the Crumpled-Horned Snorkack in Britain. Imagine! They’ve never been seen outside of Sweden before…�

She proceeded like this for a few moments. Eventually, he cleared his throat loudly. Luna did not appear to hear him; her eyes were glazed over and staring at nothing in particular. She was also humming a jittery, tuneless song under her breath. He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time.

“Luna, I don’t suppose you have the time?� Ron asked pointedly.

A broad, although slightly unhinged smile blossomed on her face.

“Of course I have the time. Remember, Ron, if you ever need to talk to someone, I’ll always have the time to listen.�

He closed his eyes briefly in mortification. “Err, no, Luna; that wasn’t what I meant. I mean, do you have the time right now? Like a watch?� he explained, gesturing at his wrist.

A serene look momentarily crossed her face. “You have exactly fifteen minutes and forty- two seconds till until the match starts. Wait, forty seconds…� She trailed of vaguely.

Ron swallowed an audible lump in this throat and succumbed to sitting down. Luna scrutinised him, then followed suit. They sat in companionable silence for a while.

“Why are you nervous?� Luna asked.

Ron stared at her in disbelief. “What?� he said quizzically.

“Why are you nervous?� she repeated. “I’m assuming the Doodle Shadowed Nooks haven’t affected you as you haven’t started singing yet, so you must be nervous for some reason.�

He stared ahead very deliberately. “I dunno. All the usual reasons, I guess.�

Luna considered this. “Fear of failure? Letting yourself, your team mates and your fellow Gryffindors down?�

Ron paled. “Yeah. You could put it like that,� he muttered, pulling out a couple blades of grass.

“You won’t. I know you won’t.� The etherealness in Luna’s voice had slackened, and it was replaced with determined faith. Ron plucked some more grass. “Ron… You can do this,� she said convincingly. Ron shifted uncomfortably. He had spent his whole life telling himself that he couldn’t; this unconditional belief in him was perplexing.

“Thanks, Luna,� he said softly.

She beamed at him. “That’s quite all right. Shall we start walking down to the pitch? You don’t want to be late.�

Ron sighed and reluctantly stood up. Luna stayed where she was, gazing dreamily at the sky.

“Are – are you coming, Luna?� Ron asked hopefully.

She looked surprised. “Oh! Did you want me to come too?�

Ron examined a hangnail on this thumb. “Well, uh, if you don’t want to, that’s okay… I was just thinking…� He trailed off desperately.

She hopped to her feet and said cheerfully, “Let’s go then. I think your voice is becoming more melodic; the Doodle Shadowed Nooks must be arriving!�

They walked briskly to the pitch, the knot is Ron’s stomach clenching tighter and tighter. They were so close; Ron could hear the excited babble from the mass of students in the stands.

“Weasel King and Loony. What a pair, eh? Some kids they’ll have.�

Ron turned around furiously. Draco Malfoy was grinning snidely at him.

“Well, Weasel King? And I’d placed five Galleons on you ending up with the Mudblood. I suppose blood- traitors never do stop surprising!� Draco laughed.

Ron reached for his wand, but Luna placed a cool hand on his.

“Don’t, Ron,� she said calmly. “He’s not worth it. Come on - we’re nearly there.�

Ron seemed to be torn between two ideas, but placed his wand back in his pocket at Luna’s gentle persuading.

“Lucky your girlfriend was here, Weasel King.� Draco sneered.

Luna tugged him the rest of the way. The echo of “Weasley is our King� could be heard quite easily from the stands. He gulped.

“You’ll be fine, Ron. Don’t listen to them,� Luna reassured him soothingly.

“Easy for you to say; they’re not blaring their wish for your failure at the tops of their voices,� he snapped.

She nodded solemnly. “I know they’re not, but you can handle it.�

“How can you be so sure?� he challenged.

Luna appeared to think about it. “I just do.�

He sighed resentfully and turned to the pitch as if preparing himself for war.

“I’ll wait for you at the end of the match, okay, Ron?� Luna assured him.

“Only if you bring tissues.�

“Done.�

Ron gave an unconvincing chuckle. “See you later, Luna,.� he said, bravely attempting confidence.

“Good luck, Ron.�

She hurried off to find a good seat in the stands. Ron watched the scurrying figure until she disappeared out of sight. The knot in his stomach had intensified and he didn’t think it was nerves anymore. That left the Doodle Shadowed Nooks or… well, he wouldn’t think about the other thing. He marched into the changing rooms, his head up.

You can do this.

He didn’t listen to Harry’s pep talk. He didn’t listen to Katie’s advice as they kicked off the ground. As he hovered in front of the hoops, he scanned the crowd for Luna.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

For one split second, he thought he spotted her - but then the Quaffle hurtled towards him and he had to pay attention.

You can do this!

Gryffindor: 0 – Slytherin: 0.

He had saved it.

* * *

It was dusk by the time Ron emerged from the changing rooms -- battered, bruised and throbbing in places he didn’t know he had, let alone could hurt that much. Luna stood, as promised, at the entrance to the pitch. She beamed at him.

“I told you! I told you that you could do it!� Luna said happily.

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. Well done.�

They stood smiling at each for a few seconds. It was Ron’s smile that faded first.

“Uh, sorry about this, Luna, but I think they’re having some party in Gryffindor common room, and I’m kind of expected to be there. You know, with being on the team and all…�

Luna’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course!� she said easily. “I’ll walk in with you, anyway. I might head to the library for a book on Magizoology.�

They continued to chatter amiably as they wandered through the grounds, reminiscing about the highlights of the game. But Ron’s heart was not really in the conversation; it was focused quite simply on the girl next to him. When they walked their shoulders brushed and maybe it was just his imagination, but she seemed a lot closer than before. Luna was very warm. Before he could chicken out, he grabbed her hand. Ron didn’t look down to see her expression; he didn’t even stop talking. He proceeded as if nothing at all had happened. Luna gazed briefly at their laced fingers and a smile crept onto her face. Suspecting this was hard for Ron to do, she didn’t comment on it. They walked bravely through the corridors, their hands entwined as a few stray Slytherins made jeering comments. Even so, they reached the library with some regret.

“I don’t have to go to the party… They’ll just want to talk about the match, and I’ve already done that,� Ron said.

Luna couldn’t stop her smile from stretching. “It’s okay, Ron -- you can go,� she told him.

“Nah. I’ll just stay here. I, er, always wanted to know more about Magizoology,� Ron said, trying to sound interested.

“You’re a terrible liar.� Luna laughed.

“I know,� he admitted guiltily.

“Go. Your friends are waiting for you.�

“They can wait. You’re my friend too,� Ron mumbled, shrugging. As he said this, he stared pointedly at his overly-large feet, embarrassment flooding his voice.

“Thanks, Ron. Now, go! I want to start writing about the Doodle Shadowed Nooks anyway; maybe I can get the letter to Daddy by tonight!�

“All right, all right. I’ll go.�

He grudgingly untwined his fingers from hers. Taking a deep breath and before he could change his mind, he gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. His gaze cast several inches away from her face, Ron waved goodbye. He ran the rest of the way to the Gryffindor common, skipping a few steps at a time. When he arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, his face broke into a childish grin.

Maybe he was good enough after all.