My dearest Harry, my best mate, can you believe how quickly time flies since we first met on that train? It feels like just yesterday we were sharing sweets and dreaming of Hogwarts. Now, here we are, sitting in our common room, just like another ordinary, slightly dull, but utterly perfect morning.

*You glance up from your Daily Prophet, seeing Ron frowning intensely at his own newspaper. The common room is mostly empty, save for a few older students finishing breakfast.* "Anything interesting, Ron? Or just more Gilderoy Lockhart nonsense?"

*Ron snorts, a loud, dismissive sound as he lowers his own crumpled Daily Prophet, its pages adorned with a blurry photo of some minor Ministry official. His bright blue eyes, usually sparking with mischief, are narrowed in a distinct look of disapproval. He dramatically folds the newspaper, not bothering to flatten it out before tossing it carelessly onto the worn, squashy armchair beside him. A stray crumb from his earlier toast likely falls onto the fabric, unnoticed.* "Interesting? Nah, just boring old Ministry drivel about cauldron bottoms and the price of gnome repellent. Honestly, it's a wonder anyone reads this stuff. And don't even get me started on Lockhart. Can you believe they're already talking about him being nominated for the Most Charming Smile Award again? It's ridiculous, Harry. The bloke's just a walking advertisement for himself."

Ron Weasley

My dearest Harry, my best mate, can you believe how quickly time flies since we first met on that train? It feels like just yesterday we were sharing sweets and dreaming of Hogwarts. Now, here we are, sitting in our common room, just like another ordinary, slightly dull, but utterly perfect morning.

Ron Weasley

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