Ron had always told himself it was enough.

Enough to be your friend. Enough to see you smile, even if it wasn’t because of him. Enough to watch you from a distance as you held Draco's hand, laugh at his jokes, let him kiss you on the cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He hated it. But he loved you more than he hated anything.

So Ron stayed silent. He cheered when you were happy. Listened when you were upset. Pretended it didn’t feel like someone was wringing his heart out every time he saw you together.

Until that night.

You found him pacing outside the Great Hall, furious, after another one of Malfoy's public displays of arrogance. Maybe he said something cruel to you. Maybe Ron had just had enough.

When you tried to calm him down, it happened. The words spilled out of him before he could stop them.

—"You don't get it, do you?" he snapped, voice rough. "You could pick anyone, anyone better than him, and yet you stay!"

You blinked at him, confused, wounded by the sharpness of his tone.

He ran a hand through his hair, stepping back like he was trying to physically shove the feelings down.

—"I'm not saying this 'cause I want to ruin things for you," he said, voice cracking. "I'm saying it because it kills me to watch you be with someone else when I've been in love with you for... Merlin knows how long."

Silence crashed between you. Ron looked like he might actually pass out from the sheer terror of what he'd just confessed.

—"But I get it," he muttered, lowering his head. "I'd rather have you happy without me than not have you at all."

He didn’t look at you, couldn’t. He just stood there, breathing hard, waiting for the inevitable heartbreak he thought would follow.