Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. are not mine, they are JK's, however the plot and anything else you don't recognize ARE mine, so get it right

Chapter One: Memories

Ron looked up miserably at the ceiling. The racket the ghoul was making up in the attic was making the ceiling shake, bits of dust and lint Mrs. Weasley hadn't been able to clean fall to the floor. Beside him, Ginny was repeatedly stabbing a piece of parchment with the tip of her quill, trying to channel out her anger on the now torn essay that she had been writing.

"Honestly! It's taken me a good week to write an acceptable Transfiguration paper for McGonagall, and now that thick-headed ghoul has to come and make such a racket, that I lose my concentration, and mess it all up!" said the exasperated Ginny, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Well, you shouldn't have left it till the last minute, then. Else, you would've been done by now." replied Ron reprimanding, sounding oddly like Hermione. At the amused expression on Ginny's face, he responded.

" What can I say? Go around with Hermione for seven years, and you'll pick up some of her habits too!"

"Well, I'm heading out in the yard to fly around a bit. With that ghoul thumping around, I won't be able to write my essay."

"Going to use your non-existent broom are you?" asked Ron, smirking.

"Actually, I'm going to use the new Dissendium 180 Harry so generously sent me for my birthday. It has a self-navigational feature, you know," replied Ginny smugly, sticking out her tongue as she bolted outside.

Ron's mouth opened in shock, and he made a mental note to tell Harry the...err...value of true friendship. His stomach rumbled deafeningly, and taking that as his cue, he traipsed into the kitchen.

"'Lo Mum, is there any leftovers from lunch?" asked Ron eagerly, leaning forward on the countertop.

"Well, Ronnie-he grimaced- I do believe I've run out. Fred and George came in a bit before, you see," said Mrs.Weasley, smiling." I'm sure I could whip something up for you, but meanwhile, could you go up to the attic and try to calm Harold down?" she asked adequately. Ron thought it pointless to name the family ghoul, but obeyed his mum, nevertheless, and trudged upstairs.

Peeking into his room on the way up, he flashed a lopsided smile. He had not changed the blazing orange Chudley Canons décor, though the large pile of books at his bed, and the picture frame which no longer held him at 5, clutching his teddy bear, but at 17, his arm encircled around Hermione's waist and using the other free hand to grip his wand tightly, as if to protect her, showed how he had grown up over the years.

Up against the wall, was his broomstick, a rather flashy Nimbus Hermione had gotten for him as a graduation gift. And beside it, was a picture of her in the teardrop pendant he had gotten her.

On the other nightstand, stood a picture of Harry and Ron, Harry pummeling Ron to the ground, in an attempt to gain the present he had gotten back in his hands, even though it was a simple miniature broom model. While playfully wrestling each other, the broom flew out of Ron's grasp and whizzed around his head for a bit, before halting for a stop in Harry's palm.

Clutching their sides, Harry and Ron waved cheerily to him, and then pointedly started their scene once more, as Ron had snatched the broom out of Harry's open hand whilst he wasn't looking.

Breaking out of his reverie, Ron smiled and continued on his way up to the attic. He passed his brother' rooms, aloud bang issuing from Fred and George's, as they had recently moved their lab from their flat to the Burrow, appointing Lee Jordan too look after their shop in their absences, as they thoroughly missed not having to wash their own socks.

Passing Percy's room, Ron felt anger pass through his veins. The pompous git had felt too proud to come back to his family, where Molly was waiting with open arms. Instead, he had acted as if he was never a member of the family, and continued to snub Mr. Weasley at the Ministry, if they were to run into each other.

Passing Charlie's Room, he grinned. He had recently owled them from Romania, sending a letter to Ron specifically, telling him of a pretty girl rather like Hermione, who continued to rile him but he loved her for it. Surprisingly, her name was Lauerine, pronounced Lauer-I-Nee, and she was supposedly foreign.

Passing Bill's room, he felt a strange urge to smirk. He and Fleur had bought a flat a year before, and now Fleur was pregnant. One didn't have to go far to figure out how that happened. Ginny had become slightly warmer to Fleur, but still called her Phlegm occasionally behind her back.

Lastly, he peeked into Ginny's room, where the décor mainly came from gifts from past relationships, and others from her present one. In the corner, sat a stack of letters, he assumed from Harry. Glancing around to see if anyone was near, he took off the top letter.

Dearest Ginny,

Let me hope that this letter doesn't come into the hands of Ron. Alas, he doesn't exactly akin to these warm, mushy love letters. I do love you so very much. The way the sun hits your hair like-

Urgh. He couldn't read any farther. How could Harry write such repulsive things about his sister? Frowning, he left the room, and at last, went up the last flight of steps, to the attic.

So, how was it? You know what'choo gotta do now? Review! Please? Pretty please? I'm a review Nazi of sorts, so, the more reviews, the more motivated I'll be! Well, read and review chappie 2 coming soon! Hey, that rhymed! Sorta...Oh well, R&R!

griffinquill94