Ronald Bilius Weasley was a curious child. At age six, he was content to watch his brothers fly for hours, content to look for gnomes hiding behind bushes. He enjoyed nothing more than being left to his own devices, and make broomsticks out of branches. They even flew!

His family, however, did not understand that. They always tried to get him to do things with them. Charlie insisted on teaching him how to fly, Percy was always after him with a pair of scissors trying to cut his hair. Fred and George were trying to prank him, one way or another, and he really did not appreciate his teddy turning into a spider over night. Bill kept trying to teach him Runes, and Ginny wanted to play dolls.

She had a huge collection of dolls that Ron helped her carve out of branches and stones, as well as those she received from relatives for her birthday. She and Ron would spend hours playing with the makeshift dolls, making clothing out of leaves and flower petals from their mother's garden.

Ginevra Molly Weasley was an incredibly possessive child. She was also prone to jumping to conclusions. And she enjoyed nothing more than playing with her dolls, making sure each one of them had their own special place and outfit. She was extremely proud of all of them, and hated seeing them misplaced. And that was how Ron found himself cornered in the kitchen, with two equally frightening redheads glaring daggers at him, holding a small doll in his hands.

"I am ABSOLUTELY ashamed, Ronald, that you would even THINK of stealing from your younger sister. Why EVER would you do such a thing?" Mrs. Weasley yelled, wand waving in every direction, a tureen of stew floating menacingly behind her.

"But it's no-"Ron began, before he was interrupted by his mother's yelling.

"NO BUTS, Ronald. What will your father think, stealing at your age? Oh, at LEAST it was discovered now, and not later. My, what will Auntie Muriel think, a THIEF in the family…" Ron tuned his mother out, concentrating instead on the doll in his hands. He based it on one of Ginny's friends, and he liked how the long blond hair of the doll meshed with the wavy dress he had her wear. It was a shade of blue he'd once seen in a storybook, and he thought she'd look pretty wearing it. "…And WHAT do you have to say for yourself, young man?" His mother finished speaking, and looked at him expectantly with her hands on her hips. Ginny quickly copied her mother, though he could tell that she hadn't been paying attention either.

Ron looked up at his mother, wide eyed. "Mum, it's not Ginny's doll. It's mine." He held it up for her to take. She snatched it out of his hand, and looked it over, pulling up the dress to look at the back of the doll, where Ginny's name should've been written.

"Oh my…" Mrs. Weasley muttered. Ginny simply looked angry.

"But Ron's a BOY, mum. Why would he have a doll? He's lying." She stated sharply, with a glare leveled at her brother.

"Ron…" His mother questioned softly. "Where did you get this?"

Ron stared at his feet. "I made it…" He whispered, not daring to look at his mother. If there was one thing scarier than his mother yelling, it was his mother being quiet. "Out of, out of a tree branch. An' I made it look like Luna."

"Ron," she asked, kneeling to look him in the eye. "How did you do that?"

Ron looked at her. She wasn't that scary anymore. "I got a branch and I held it in my hand, and then I wanted it to look like her, and it changed. And I made her dress that way too."

"And when did you make it?"

"Umm… I made it after Luna stayed over."

Molly stood up. She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Three months? You made it three months ago? And it's never faded?"

Ron looked back at his feet. "No. Never. Why, mum, what did I do?"

She stared at Ron. "Perhaps nothing Ron. Or perhaps, perhaps something extraordinary," she whispered the last part. She stiffened. "We'll discuss this over dinner. Call your brothers to the table, it's almost ready, we'll eat when dad get's home."

Ron looked up at her, and ran out of the room. Ginny glared after him, and sat at her spot on the table.

Molly simply stared at the doll in her hand. The likeness to Luna was uncanny, and nearly perfect. And it lasted this well for three months, while she'd only managed a month at most, on something even smaller.

The Weasley family ate dinner together every night, as Arthur was always able to leave work on time. They normally enjoyed the time they spent together, even Ron. However, tonight was not normal, and Ron had been nervous through the meal, barely picking at the food on his plate. His mum had been acting weird earlier, and she hadn't brought up the doll yet. When was she going to? He couldn't stand the wait. What should he do?

As Molly cleared the plates, in order to put pudding on the table, Ron made his decision. He cleared his throat, and looked at his father.

"Dad," he began. "Err… mumhassomethingtoshowyou." Well. He certainly got that out. He smiled brightly and went back to looking at his glass of pumpkin juice.

"Ron, could you say that again? I couldn't understand you," Arthur asked, with a bemused expression on his face. Not the kind he got looking at Muggle things, but close. Ron paled, but Molly came to his rescue.

"Ronald has a doll." She stated, simply.

Ron paled again, his freckles more visible than ever before. Fred and George looked at each other, and grinned widely. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off with a sharp glare from Bill.

"A doll, Molly?" Arthur questioned.

"Yes, a doll. He made it himself." Molly placed the Luna-doll in the middle of the table, while simultaneously serving portions of a lemony cake. "Transfigured. It's lasted for three months," she stated, pride in her voice.

Arthur's eyes grew wide. 'Three months,' he mouthed. "That's an awfully long time. Are you quite sure Molly?" He grabbed the doll, examining it. Exquisite.

"I'm sure, Arthur, positive. I believe Ron." Molly said this with a smile directed at Ron, who was still staring at his pumpkin juice.

"Well, then, son, keep up the good work!" He smiled at Ron as well, discreetly sending Molly a signal that they'd talk later.

The family finished their dessert in comfortable camaraderie, except for Ginny, who was glaring at Ron, and Percy, who was looking at the doll with a gleam in his eye.

After all the children were in bed, Molly and Arthur were sitting at the table, mugs of tea in hand. They were discussing their youngest son, and his transfiguration.

"Molly, this could mean nothing, but, again, it could mean everything."

"I understand that Arthur. You know, Gideon once made a rather long lasting toy mouse, before he went to Hogwarts. And he did excel at Transfiguration. Although, I don't believe it lasted that long, and he made it when he was eleven."

"Do you think we should talk to Minerva about this? She should understand it more than we do."

"Perhaps we should, Arthur. We'll send her a letter tomorrow?"

"Excellent. Now, I believe we should get some sleep, Mollywobbles."

"Oh, Arthur," she giggled.

Meanwhile, Ron was studying his doll, wondering if she'd look better in another color, or perhaps a different dress. He glanced at the pile of pebbles he collected, and smirked.

This would be fun.

A/N Hello there! This is, well, written for a friend of mine for her birthday (Which is in about a month.) It was originally going to be a oneshot, involving Ron and Cedric post-Hogwarts, but the more I wrote in that, the more I got interested in the universe the story existed in. So, my friend (Oriminally) has this to look forward to!

This should, hopefully, encompass the entire time from Pre to Post Hogwarts, involving the War, the Friendships, possibilities of relationships, etc. In a variety of styles as well, so if I try something really weird, I apologize in advance! (Also, Cedric will be here in the next chapter, I swear)

If you have any questions, or nitpicky things, or wanna yell at me for the sheer stupidity of something, please do!

Happy Reading!