They made his life as hellish as possible. Bill and Charlie were always a little older, a little wiser and they'd gone off to Hogwarts pretty early in his life, Percy was always, well, Percy, and Ginny didn't matter—she was just his little sister. But they, yes, they always made his life a hell. From having him almost make an unbreakable vow before he could barely talk to turning his favorite teddy bear into a giant spider, they reveled in terrorizing him. Honestly, the spider was HUGE! But now, his life was peaceful. No spiders, no clanks, no looking over the shoulder to see if they charmed a snitch to follow him all day, or checking his food all over to ensure that there was no pill slipped in there to make him bleed out of his toes. Yes, sir, Ron Weasley's life was peaceful. Except that he would give almost anything to have not be so.
In all the time Ron had lived at the Burrow (which was his entire life), it had never been quiet. Even when no one was home, it was never quiet. There was always the anticipation that someone would come and say and do crazy things. Perhaps it would be Bill, followed by his mom everywhere as she tried to convince him to cut his hair. Or maybe it was Charlie, excitedly telling everyone about his latest adventures with the dragons—which is certainly better than listening to Percy rag on about cauldron leaks, of course. It could be Ginny, being loud about, well, everything, but most likely the anticipation would be about Fred and George sneaking up on you and scaring you so badly you curse them to hell and back and back to hell.
It's so quiet now that Ron could laugh. He didn't quite know what else to do but laugh. For seven years, from the first day of having struck a friendship with Harry Potter, he'd known that life would never again be the same. This came true as they found out that being Harry Potter meant that there were certain responsibilities, and being Harry Potter's best mate meant that those responsibilities extended to him. It's not that he ever minded—their quest had been just, and even more than that, Ron Weasley would rather die than not stand by his friends. It's just that, even when he knew that this was all a dangerous endeavor, he just never expected the danger to go past him. He never thought that any member of his family would be in danger, and maybe that's a testimony to his youth and innocence.
And then his father was bitten by a snake, Bill was mauled by a werewolf, Percy abandoned them, and George lost his ear. But, that's it, Ron thought. Sirius died, Dumbledore died, but that's it. There would be no more. But, it wasn't. Remus died, Tonks died, Colin died, Katie died, Oliver died---oh good lord, too many of them died.
Including Fred. Fred, whose death, brings us back to how Ron's life had been hellish, but now is way too quiet. What do you say to a mother who lost her son? A father in no position to do anything but grieve? To brothers and sister that would now have to rethink every time someone asks how many siblings they have? He could barely look at any of them now, especially George.
The better part of him, the rational part of him knew, just KNEW that it would all be okay. He knew that one day, the Burrow would go back to being busy, far busier than had ever been before, and that he would once again have to go back to worrying about what George was going to put under his bed when they all visited, and listen to Percy groan on about something more boring than the most boring thing on earth, but right then, right at that moment, it was too peaceful. Too damn peaceful and too damn painful. As he had this thought, a twig fell upon Ron's head as if smacking him for something.
Yes, it was Fred Weasley snapping his brother out of his misery.