The Sugar Quill
Author: Iria Callisto  Story: Shaded  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series or its characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling, a person I would love to know (despite the fact that we would have nothing to say to one another ^^;). All comments are welcome, as always.

See ya!

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I hate shadows. Not in the sense that I hate their existence (that would be stupid), but in the sense that I hate what they do. Shadows shadow. That's it; there's nothing else to it. It's a pointless and a predictable cycle. Shadows are dispensable and recyclable - just turn on a light and they disappear. Want it back? No problem; even with the light on you're bound to find one somewhere.

Shadows echo the form of their owner and are always with them, yet they're never noticed unless you're looking for one. In a way, shadows are the ideal companions: you're rarely without one; you can't get into arguments with one - hell, they don't even have mouths; you don't have to worry about them finding a better companion than you do. Better yet, they won't move unless you do, and they don't get upset about the fact that you're always walking over them.

I'm not a shadow. But I know what it feels like to be one. I know what it's like to feel as though you're constantly being stepped on, always having to follow someone else's lead. I know what it's like to be wishing that suddenly one day the shade of someone's shadow will not fall onto me and hide me.

I know I'm nowhere near as brilliant as Hermione - probably because I gave up on the idea of being the Academic One in the family after Bill and then Percy made Head Boy - and I'm not the star Quidditch player like Charlie. Nor am I famous like Harry, unless you count being pointed out as so-and-so's little brother and Arthur Weasley's son, which I don't. Bill was Head Boy, Charlie was a Quidditch player, Percy was (unfortunately) also Head Boy - so that scene's totally played out - and Fred and George are comedic geniuses. There's absolutely nothing I can excel at that someone else hasn't done first.

I worry about Ginny, because if I'm having a rough time with this, how on earth is she going to manage? But maybe her position as the only girl in the family is her niche. I certainly can't compete in that department.

None of it is any of their faults, I know, and deep down I don't blame them. What would I blame them for? They haven't done anything wrong. No matter how guilty I feel, this is the silly, idiotic truth: I'm resentful of people who are genuinely good at something, worse yet, my own brothers and my best friends. I hate the feeling and I try to clear it out of my head, even though I know it haunts the corners of my mind.

Maybe if I find something I can do, my own thing I can be good at, I can finally stop feeling as though everyone got a talent when they were born, yet somehow it skipped me.

So what have I got to offer?

I'm no World Cup Seeker for Bulgaria, like some qualified loser I know, who is famous and rich and a slimy overgrown rat. I am just myself, Ronald Weasley, an average student at Hogwarts School who is overly tall, with too many freckles but not enough cash.

"Person who hides under a shadow" does not fit into that description.

Maybe I'll be a world-famous chess player someday. Maybe I'll join a Quidditch team and tour worldwide. Or maybe I'll even become an Auror (as impossible as that may sound).

Whichever way I turn up in the future, maybe I'll have made some of my own choices for my life, my own decisions I can be proud of. And then I'll be able to step out of the shade to join my friends in the sunshine.

~ End ~

 

Notes:

Yes, it's short. Yes, it doesn't require much thought. But then again, I don't think Ron's everyday thoughts are too complex. ^_^ And I kind of like the simplicity of it.

This was my first Harry Potter fanfic and my first attempt at a vignette, which is funny since I've heard that some people begin with vignettes and then work their way from there….

Began: June 21, 2001

Completed: July 17, 2001

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