The Final Education of Ronald Weasley
Ron/Hermione romance with first times. M for mature reading. Scenes of an adult nature.
After The Battle and the end of Deathly Hallows, my favourite two characters return to Hogwarts for a few, glorious weeks of exploring.
Go Ron! The sexiest person in the magical world. Oh, to be eighteen again and to spend some time with the fantastic youngest Weasley male ...
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters etc etc which are the property of Ms. Rowling and various companies. I do not own unconfident, naive, oh-so-sweet-and-sexy Ron Weasley. Unfortunately.
Chapter 1 – Learning about Business
Ron heaved a sigh of relief and pushed his wand into the back pocket of his jeans. The re-stocking of the shop was finally finished and hundreds of cardboard boxes were now neatly ordered, catalogued and stacked on the shelves of George's stockroom.
Ron stretched and yawned, his back aching and - more importantly - his tummy rumbling. Even with magic, helping George in the shop was hard work. He'd been hard at it for a week now, sorting stock and generally trying to be useful. It really was a two man job, running Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
His tummy growled ominously as Ron picked up the stock list he'd been working on and turned towards the door. Hard work alright; bloody hell, he was hungry. Ron wondered for the umpteenth time how George was going to manage now that Fred was gone.
He turned as George came into the stock room, balancing a large cardboard box on the end of his wand.
"Last one, little bro'," George said with a smile as he waved his wand and the box carefully positioned itself on top of a stack of others. "All done!"
George pretended to wipe his brow.
"Phew! We're good to go. The shelves are full, the shop is clean and I'm ready to start back in business. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is up and running again. Hundreds of galleons, lots of ve-ry pretty customers, stacks of business awards to please Mum - here I come!"
Ron grinned broadly at his brother. It was nearly six weeks now since the battle, nearly six weeks since Fred had been killed and George's world had been turned upside down - but here he was, smiling, busy and looking forward to re-opening the shop. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the twin's pride and joy into which, Ron knew, they had both poured heart and soul. Fred and George's big success, much to everyone's surprise.
George's success alone, now.
"Ahh," George continued, "Time to celebrate the fruits of our hard labour, little Ronnie."
From the pocket of his overalls George produced with a flourish two bottles of butterbeer.
"Let's take a pew," he grinned as they sat down on a large box each. "It's been a hard week. Thanks for helping, Ron." George pulled out the cork of his butterbeer and raised the bottle to his lips. "Cheers!"
He winked at Ron, "Don't start thinking you can sneak any products out of the door though, just because you've been grafting here! I saw you eyeing up those Enlargement Candies. Don't want to give Hermione a fright now when you two get friendly down at the end of the garden ..."
Ron quickly took a thirsty gulp. Enlargement Candies? Was that something else that he needed to worry about when it came to him and Hermione?
"George," he said, "I've been thinking - "
"Has to be a first time, mate," George interrupted, "I know it's hard, but once you get used to it you'll soon be having thoughts quite easily, as regular as clockwork!" George grinned.
"Git!" No, listen, I've been thinking about the shop. It's been great helping you this week... "
"Liar!" George interrupted again, "You're not used to hard work and you've grumbled every day. My little bro's not cut out for the world of business and trading, I think!"
"Let me finish!" Ron said, "You're right, this shop is hard work. I go back to Hogwarts in a few days' time. How are you going to manage by yourself? How are you going to do it all, George, now that Fred's ..." Ron broke off, not meeting George's eye. He took a swig of butterbeer and hoped that there would be a time soon when he would be able to mention his brother's name to George without feeling awkward.
"Now that Fred's gone, you mean," George finished the sentence for him.
"Yeah, well ..." Ron shrugged his shoulders, "It's going to be different for you, here in the shop, running the business ... without him."
George grinned at Ron. He knew that all of the family were concerned about him, were worried that he would struggle on his own. And he understood why they were worried; why his mother kept staring at him when she thought he wasn't looking and why she was cooking all of his favourite meals. Why Ron had volunteered to help at the shop when he only had a few days left before returning to school, why Charlie had flown in unexpectedly last week all the way from Romania and taken him out for a heavy night's drinking.
He loved that they all fussed over him, each in their own way and while trying desperately not to let him see how concerned they were. Even Hagrid had been for a visit yesterday, knocking down three shelves of exploding goods while trying to help clean the ceiling.
"Relax, mate," he said, "You know, I think I'm going to be fine. I mean, it'll take some getting used to, not having Fred around, but I've managed so far." George smiled, with a twinkle in his eye, "And you know, he always used to get all the best girls, something about his devilish good charm, he used to tell me. So now that he's gone maybe I'll have more luck with the ladies ...!"
George leant backwards and popped his feet up on another box, his hands behind his head.
"Maybe I'll take a crack at Angelina Johnson, she's rounded in a very nice way in all of the right places, if you know what I mean. I always thought she preferred me really to Fred."
Ron grinned and shook his head. George was slowly emerging out of those first weeks of grief for Fred and was starting to get back on his feet. Not to say that he wasn't still hurting inside, deeply hurting, Ron knew that. He had seen George's pain first hand, had felt it himself, had heard him crying in his bedroom at night and seen the lost look on his face. He knew that life for George would never be quite the same without his twin. They had been inseparable, had shared everything including girlfriends, and had known each other's thoughts better than their own. Rebuilding his life without his twin would take George some time.
Ron sipped at his butterbeer and sneaked a glance at his brother's face. Probably George's life would never be as good as it had been with his other half beside him, someone always there who thought and felt the same, someone to share triumphs with, someone to laugh with when things didn't work out quite as planned. But perhaps, hopefully and with all joking aside, George was going to be alright.
The first week after the battle, George had kept to the bedroom he had shared with his twin at The Burrow for nineteen years, only appearing for meals. The second week had seen Fred's funeral, something Ron didn't like to think about too much. Lee Jordan had stayed on at The Burrow for a few days afterwards and he and George had gone out to Muggle pubs every night, arriving home very late - and very drunk. Mrs Weasley hadn't moaned at George once, much to her credit, though Ron knew how hard that must have been for her.
The third week George had seemed quiet but okay, mixing with the family as usual and disappearing to spend a few days at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur. When he returned, much to his mother's relief, he seemed almost back to his normal, joking, disrespectful self.
On the outside at least. Ron didn't want to think about how George was feeling on the inside. George was good at putting on a brave face for the world, too good. He'd emerged from his bedroom one day last week, wearing overalls and announcing that he was going back to the shop and to his flat. Ron knew how much his mother was worrying about him. But he also knew that George was going to be alright eventually, never quite the same as before, perhaps never quite as bright but - alright.
But running this shop by himself was a big task. Ron struggled to find the words he wanted to say.
"Look, George," he started, "I ... I don't have to ...,"
He took another swig of butterbeer. "I don't have to go back to Hogwarts, you know. I could - stay with you, help you run the shop, stay at your place for a bit."
George laughed out loud as he swung his feet back onto the floor and sat up straight.
"Nice try, mate," he said, "Listen, I'm going to be fine, you know. I feel much better than I did last week, and a whole lot better than I did the week before that. I'm going to run this shop by myself, make a good go of it, and celebrate by blowing all of the profits in all sorts of ways that I know Fred would approve of."
"Are you sure? How will you get everything done by yourself?"
"I'm sure. I'll manage. But thanks for the offer, little bro."
George stood up and took Ron's empty butterbeer bottle out of his hand.
"Anyway, can you see Mum letting you miss out on your N.E.W.T.S.? Or Hermione letting you miss your last lessons at school? Plus we need you there, even if it's only for a short time, keeping an eye on our Little Miss Independent and her wizarding-hero boyfriend. Ginny was bad enough before, but now that Harry's saved the world there'll be no stopping her. Your brotherly steady influence is needed, before we both become uncles at far too early an age!"
George led the way out of the stockroom and up a flight of stairs to the flat above the shop.
"Nice try at escaping returning to Hogwarts, Ron. But as we both know, it's a big fat 'you haven't got a chance'!"
Ron followed his brother up the stairs. In four days time he'd be back at school. Hogwarts had been closed for six weeks to repair the buildings and to give time to everyone to recover – and to attend funerals. Ron had been to eleven, Hermione and Harry at his side. Fred's hadn't been the worse. Little Colin Creevey's had been terrible and how he had got through Lupin and Tonks' he'd never know. Their baby, Teddy, had been crying loudly as the service came to an end and Mrs Tonks had led them all out of the graveyard, holding tightly onto the baby for dear life.
There were rumours that there had been one more funeral connected to the battle, one which wasn't announced in The Daily Prophet - Voldemort's, conducted out at sea by the Ministry. Ron didn't know who, if anyone, had been invited to that one. Well, who would want to go?
The school year had been extended into the start of the usual summer break to accommodate the students who had missed some schooling while the Carrows and Snape had been in charge. The O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T.S. exams would take place at the end of July instead of the usual start of June to enable pupils to catch up with their learning.
The trouble was, he and Hermione and Harry hadn't missed some schooling this year, like Neville or Luna. They'd missed all of it. Returning to Hogwarts was going to be difficult enough, what with everything that had taken place there. Fitting back into being a schoolboy and being told what to do all of the time after nine months living on the run was going to be hard, even if he was only going to be at school for two months. Wearing his uniform again and acting as a normal teenager at school? That could be difficult.
But returning to studying and catching up with months of learning before sitting his N.E.W.T.S ? All in two months? Impossible.
Hermione had started worrying about it already. Getting top grades had always been important to her and Ron knew that she was going to be studying flat out when they returned to school. Bloody hell, he thought as he collapsed into an armchair in George's flat, he didn't get a chance to spend enough time alone with her as it was, let alone once she started studying for the N.E.W.T.S.
Once her parents had decided that finishing school was important for Hermione, and having a short spell at being a 'normal teenager' at school too, his future for the next two months had been set. He couldn't let her return on her own. Plus he would need a full time job soon, finances being what they were in his family, and he would have to have a crack at the bloody N.E.W.T.S. His father had already said that the Ministry would take his 'extenuating circumstances' into consideration when he applied for Auror training but Ron wasn't too sure just how far 'I helped the great Harry Potter' would get him in an interview ...
"Turn the thing on, Ron," said George as he sprawled onto the sofa, "You know, the tell-o-vision thing. I ike the football, even if it is slower than Quidditch."
Ron walked over to a large Muggle television George and Fred had bought for a laugh when they moved into the flat above the shop. Mr Weasley had been thrilled and kept sneaking over to try and see how it worked. It had been returned to the Muggle shop for repairs twice already after he'd had 'a quick look' at it.
Ron settled back into the armchair and closed his eyes. His thoughts flew straight away to Hermione, as they always did whenever he had five minutes to himself. The sounds of the football match on the large screen began to fade.
Once he'd got over the initial shock of returning to school and if he ever survived the N.E.W.T.S. and all of that studying, it might be quite nice to spend the last few weeks of school with her at Hogwarts. There would be the usual Leavers Ball to finish the year. She would wear a pretty dress and they could dance together and have a laugh. He wouldn't mess it up like he had at the Yule Ball when they'd been fourth years. And there'd be graduation with nice photos and everything, his mum would like that.
And hopefully there would be some time to disappear together into the grounds or into an empty classroom here and there. That would be something good to look forward to. After Fred's funeral when life had started to return to a little bit of normality, they'd spent quite a lot of time together at the end of the garden at The Burrow. Quite a few warm nights under the trees. And in Hermione's bedroom at her house when her parents had been out at work.
Things in that department were working out very nicely. Very nicely indeed. He was finally doing all of the things he had wanted to do with her for the past three years. Well, not quite all of the things yet, but give him time.
Last night had been particularly promising. Ron grinned to himself as he thought about being in the garden with Hermione the night before, her head against his chest and her hand somewhere else.
He wondered if George had any snacks in the flat as his stomach rumbled again ...