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My Brother, My Friend | ||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Ron Weasley Genres: General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 5 Summary: One night, Ginny studies Ron in the Common Room; she is filled with love, memories, and pride. One-shot Hitcount: Story Total: 6160 |
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My Brother, My Friend [A/N: I just borrow J. K. Rowling’s characters to play with them, and I always return them!] Last night I went down to the Common Room, hoping to find my Charms book then sneak down to the kitchen for some hot chocolate. I had woken up in a cold sweat, and I’m pretty sure I had had a nightmare about Tom. Instead, I found my brother. He was almost completely face-down on a table, sleeping soundly. I knew I had heard familiar snoring as I came down the stairs. Everyone else had gone on to bed. As I moved closer, I could see a book lying open near his head. It was Hermione’s “Hogwarts, A History.” I laughed quietly. Hermione must have left it, because Ron would never be caught reading that. Then I spotted the Martin Miggs comic tucked in the pages. My brother is so strange. I sat across from him, studying his hair and smushed face. He had always been a heavy sleeper. I remembered having to share a room with him for a few nights when we were five and six, respectively. Fred, maybe George, maybe both, had gotten into a row with Charlie and somehow the outside wall of my room vanished. I didn’t question it. I had gone to Mum, reported the incident, and went to go play with my Gwenog Jones action figure. Of course, that was before Ron broke it. Anyroad, I had stayed up half the night watching my brother sleep. He was my hero then, replacing Charlie. He stirred, tucking his arms under his head. He had done that back then as well. Since my start at Hogwart’s, Ron and I had shared a pact not to show public affection for one another. That had been fine with me. The summer before his first year here, Ron had completely turned away from me. Our older brothers had convinced him he was far too old to play with me, so he brushed me off to play rough Quidditch games and fight. He said I was just a “little girl and he had other things to do.” Needless to say, Ron lost his hero position. But after the Chamber incident, that pact had been pushed aside. At the Leaving Feast, Ron placed me in front of him and shot concerned glances at me the entire night. He even hugged me on the way up to the Tower. On the train ride home, he carefully held my hand halfway home. He thought I was asleep. The morning after the Shrieking Shack, he caught me in the Common Room and hugged me fiercely before planting an awkward kiss on my hair. When I heard about previous night’s events and about my brave brother, he once again became my hero-Harry Potter or no. When he returned to Gryffindor tower after the Second Task, he sat next to me on a sofa and looked me in the eye, saying he loved me. It was the first time in years he had mentioned anything like that. I cried and hugged him, only to be rewarded with “Geroff me. It’s not a big deal.” But I knew it was. That memory triggered another. All Quidditch games are important to me, but two in particular stand out. The first is a game of pickup we played in the paddock at the Burrow the summer after my second year. Ron told me a secret, how he wanted to be keeper for Gryffindor. That day he proceeded to block every goal I tried for. I was proud. But the second momentous match I remember made me even prouder. Gryffindor had, of course, been unsurpassed, but my brother was bloody brilliant. When everyone lifted Ron up on their shoulders and sang “Weasley is Our King” I was absolutely bursting with pride. It made it even better that he caught my eye out of the crowd and winked. So I’m a sappy person. I cherish little moments like that. I really love my memories of firsts between Ron and myself. Ron was the one who got me to do magic. We were sitting in a tree in the woods behind the Burrow, and he had made me furious. Since I tend to lose my head in an argument, I completely lost control. Somehow I managed to Vanish his tongue. He was yelling one second, then there was complete silence the next. He got this horrible look on his face and jumped from the tree, opening and closing his mouth like a frog. I nearly fell from the tree myself, laughing at the buggering idiot. I got in serious trouble, but was only scolded after Mum finished rejoicing over the fact that her baby girl was indeed magical. Aside from being a prat and getting me into trouble, Ron was an excellent brother. He taught me how to play chess, helped Bill and Charlie teach me to punch, kept my secret about losing Bill’s hieroglyphic map, carried me to Mum when I fell out my window. He took care of me, protected me, and was my best friend for nearly 10 years. He shifted again, and I could see the ugly scars those brains in the Ministry left. He’s growing up. Now he’s fighting Death Eaters instead of me. He’s got two great best friends, and more courage than he lets on. He’s still my hero, and everybody was quite correct last year--Weasley is the king. “Ron,” I whispered. No movement. I leaned across the table and shook his arm. “Ron, get up, it’s really late. You should get in bed.” He grunted. So I shook him again. “Geroff meh, I’mb sleebink,” he mumbled. I smiled and shook again. “Ron, please get up. You need to go up to the dormitory.” He finally lifted his head and cracked his right eye a fraction. “Hmm,” he mumbled again. “You fell asleep down here. Go up to your bed.” “Oh,” was his reply. He got up and started to stumble to the stairs, but stopped abruptly and came back. He patted my shoulder groggily. “Thanks for waking me up. Night, Gin.” Then he was gone. “Night Ron,” I had whispered into an empty room. I slept better the rest of the night, dreaming of my brother, who was also my friend. [a/n: I am thinking about turning this into a story about “Kodak” moments with Ginny and people in her life. Please R&R and tell me your opinions!] |
| Reviews 5 |
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