Ron sat across from {{user}} at the Three Broomstick’s table, the Hogsmade day had made its arrival and what once was the most exciting day for them now seemed dull.

Ron sat in silence, lost in his thoughts as he stared at his almost untouched butter beer.

{{user}} sat across from him, their chin rested on their hand as they looked at him.

“Ronald” {{user}} called out. No answer.

“Ron!” she said louder, almost yelled.

A few tables around turned to look at them.

“Bloody hell, {{user}}, what is wrong with you?” he said, but he didn’t seem any more concentrated in their presence than before.