It was a week after the battle at Hogwarts had ended. It was a week after Voldemort had been defeated. It was 2 days after the funeral of Fred Weasley.
Ron was in the kitchen of the Burrow thinking about how he finally understood how his mother felt. Taking care of seven children had kept Molly Weasley busy for years and even after sending her seventh child off to Hogwarts, she couldn't go five minutes without finding something to occupy herself. When Voldemort came back to power, her reasons changed. Molly knew that thinking about the war for too long would lead to tears. But getting emotional in the middle of a war never helped anybody so Molly stayed strong for her family and saved her tears and worries for later.
When the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione got back to the Burrow, Ron took charge of the well - being of his family. He was occasionally able to force George to eat a meal, helped his mother with the cooking and cleaning, and did his best to take care of everyone. Ron's thoughts unwillingly drifted to these topics as he washed the dishes after everyone had left after lunch.
Today had been one of the more difficult days for all of the occupants in the Burrow. George hadn't opened his door to anyone today, not even Angelina and though Ron and Harry knew more about wards than the average wizards after the past year in the woods, even they weren't able to take down the wards that George had put on his bedroom. Hermione had left yesterday afternoon for Australia to remove the memory charm that she had put on her parents and would only be able to return back with her family in about a month. It had only been one day and Ron was already missing her. He didn't know how he could survive a month of not seeing his Mione.
Molly had found an old sweater of Fred's this morning while she had been doing the laundry and had cried for most of the morning on her husband's shoulder and into the sweater. Harry had not spoken to anyone since the family had come home from Hogwarts, but today he hadn't even stepped out of the bedroom he shared with Ron, after their attempts to get George out of his bedroom.
Ron sighed and looked through the window above the sink to try and take some of the stress away. The window looked out to a small wooded area that the Weasleys had played in when they were younger, pretending that it was the Forbidden Forest and filled with all sorts of dangerous monsters. And just beyond the woods was the Weasley family cemetery, where the sun was reflecting off a gleaming new headstone. Fred's headstone.
A crash brought Ron back to the kitchen. His fingers must have slipped because on the floor he saw the mug that he had been washing. Ron murmured a quiet Reparo and picked up the mug from the floor and put it on the table. He let out a small gasp of recognition and unconsciously took a step back. It read I solemnly swear that I am up to no good on the front and had the word Marauders on the back. It was Fred's tea mug. Fred and George made a matching set and got the mugs, along with the dragon-skin suits in honor of the opening of their shop, which was why this mug was in nearly new condition, unlike the mugs Fred has had for a longer time. Ron only knew that this is Fred's mug because Fred himself had knocked it over when he and George had gone to put some sense in Ron's head about his feelings for Hermione. Ron had been adamant and in denial that he had any romantic feelings for her and Fred had thrown the mug at Ron in frustration. Fred has missed his mark and the mug had been chipped at the top for his actions. But the twins remarks hadn't and it gave Ron the push he needed to slowly reveal his feelings for Hermione.
Ron felt the tears spring up in his eyes and soon he heard great, heaving sobs. A week. He had to wait a week before he could cry for his dead brother because he was too busy taking care of everyone else. Ron let it all out and felt a hand on his shoulder but didn't pay any attention to it. He continued sobbing until he had nothing left in him and looked up, past the remaining tears to see his best friend with silent tears running down his face and a hand on Ron's shoulder. Sitting together the two friends looked at the mug.
It was too bad that broken lives couldn't be fixed with magic. Like broken dishes.