Dealing with change was never something that Ron Weasley had been good at. Really, if you thought about it, people who felt that they had something to prove were never good at dealing with change, and Ron had always felt he had something to prove. He was the youngest of six brothers, with really no distinguishing characteristic to speak of. Bill was the cool one, Charlie was athletic, Percy was brainy, and the twins were brilliant jokesters. Even after Ron had gone to Hogwarts he was often in his best friend Harry Potter’s shadow. He knew that Harry was important and he didn’t mind often being in his shadow, but every once in a while it grated on his nerves.
After the war was over, Ron felt he had even more to prove. He had Hermione by his side and every day he felt that he had to prove to her that he was good enough for her. She’d told him many times that he shouldn’t think that way, but Ron couldn’t help that. Every day he would try to do the same things that he had done all of his life. Things that he couldn’t do for so long because of the wounds he had suffered during the last battle. Things that he still couldn’t do because he no longer had the strength to do them. Try as he might, even something as simple as standing to take a shower were impossible, all because he had no legs left to stand on.
How many times had Hermione had to come to his rescue because he had tried to do something himself? How long was it going to be before he let go of the stubbornness and asked for help? How many more times would Ron have to try to prove to himself that he was still a man and fail miserably? How many times would Hermione tell him that he was still all the man she would ever need?
Ron Weasley had never been good about dealing with change, and he was sure that this particular change would end up killing him.