Gramps and Nana Prewett
by Berde

DISCLAIMER: just borrowing characters from ms. Rowling, so don't sue me! LOL..
Please read and, well…reviews won't hurt!

Ron sat uncomfortably on the old couch of his grandparents' deck. Earlier that morning he was asked (ordered rather) by his mum to bring to her parents their invitation to Bill and Fleur's wedding which will be held on the front yard of The Burrow in a week's time. He didn't object anymore as he had promised to help with the preparations if she'd let him go with Harry and stay at the Dursley's until he has to. But he started regretting it when his Prewett grandfather began to open the conversation about love. Ron could lie about anything to anyone but not to his grandfather. For some reasons, the old man makes him feel the immorality of being dishonest at the same time the easiness to talk things up with him. Well, he should feel relaxed but that stupid love once again that's making things hard!

He had confessed that lately, he has been thinking a lot about his relationship with one of his besfriends--Hermione Granger. He has also been distressing about the Dark Lord and finding the horcruxes but he just couldn't get off his mind everything that happened between them during sixth grade (this one he only referred to as a huge fight and preferred to save the Lavender details to himself). He has mentioned that since they left Hogwarts all that he and Hermione have been was either too formal or too casual with each other, struggling to act as if nothing had happened. It was like a mental agreement that Harry must come first for obvious reasons and that for now, there's no room to sort out their issues. However, Ron was still having mixed emotions. Maybe, there was no need for sorting things out; after all, he and Hermione were quite fine already. Soon, they'll be back with their own selves—the bickering pair as they were often referred to. Because, deep inside, he was afraid that once things are sorted, it would give an end result which would be different from what he's hoping for.

"I think I was falling in love with her without even knowing it." His face seemed to had gotten tired of turning beet red what with already an hour past when their conversation started.

"You look like it's the biggest problem...might be even topping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"It is a problem." He stressed, looking away, "But loving her is not the problem, it's trying to stop. Now it just...it seems too late."

The old man lifted his cup of tea for a sip, slowly he said, "My boy, love happens whether you want it to or not. Don't try to control it."

Ron returned to meet the elder's equally blue eyes. "But she's my bestfriend!"

His companion smiled and more lines were visible on his face. He turned to look inside the small house where his partner was preparing dinner for them. "Your nana was my bestfriend too, and look at us." he stared at the woman for a few more seconds before returning to Ron, "Happiness is being married to your besfriend, didn't you know that?"

"No." The Weasley's youngest son answered shortly, sounding a little ridiculed.

"Well, now you do." a creasy hands was lifted in the air, pointed at him.

Ron frowned. "But that's just mental! Harry's my bestfriend too. I'm happy with him but I sure won't be thrilled if we're to be married." His voice higher than usual with a tone of sarcasm.

"You don't get the point, young man. You love him differently than you love the other one." A summer breeze blew gently causing the old man's thin white hair to fly and fall before his face.

"Yeah, but we've never really gotten along, Hermione and I. Well, we have but we're almost always having a go at each other. We're too opposite. Not like you and Nana." Ron watched him fix his hair and remembered how it looked like when he was a kid. It was already a combination of ginger and grey strands. He was told a few times about his resemblance with his grandfather on mother side and wondered if that's how he'd look like in the future. Inside, he hoped that the happiness gramps was referring to would come to him in the future. He would be as happy as him with Hermione and his own white hairs.

"I think sometimes people are suppose to marry the person they're opposite with, that way two people won't make the same mistake." Sensing what the young companion would want and need to hear, the man continued.

Hope was evident on Ron's eyes, he wasn't speaking from the heart but from his mind—voicing out his thoughts and reservations. "I highly doubt that. Hermione and I have been committing the same mistakes over and over. That's why we always argue."

A chuckle broke the silent grasslands around the small abode. "No son, you argue because you are trying to deny love. You want to prove that this deep emotion doesn't exist and you're all about friendship. That's bollocks!"

The lanky teenager shrugged, "That's not it. We just don't blend together without Harry or Ginny or anyone between us."

The old man raised his white eyebrows, "Are you sure?" he leaned towards, "There isn't one time, one splitting second when it's just the two of you and you're having the times of your lives? Not once?"

This made Ron think. Well, there was the time when he and Hermione first went to Hogsmeade during third year and Harry had to stay because his uncle didn't sign his permission form; there was also the cleaning days at 12 Grimmauld Place before fifth year; some of the prefect duties; well, even a few of their study sessions before bloody Vicky would come in the subject. "There are some instances, but they're very rare and not that grand."

"Of course they're not!" exclaimed his gramps, his voice echoing the field. "When you love someone, you pick up the little things and magically turn them into something special." With this he pulled his wand from his pocket and tapped it on some dried leaves on the floor and a bouquet of roses appeared.

Ron picked it up for his grandfather seeing that the man was struggling with his back ache. "I didn't say they're special." He said in a low tone whilst his ears starting to warm up again.

"You didn't. But you're also not saying they aren't." The elder kept his eyes on Ron who started to examine the flowers.

"You said we're trying to deny love. I am. What made you say that's also what she's doing?" the younger man reached to hand the roses over to the one who made them.

The other accepted and placed it on his lap. "I didn't." he started to busy himself fondling with the red petals.

"See. And you're telling me to fight for what I feel without even considering the chances that she might just hate me or laugh at me."

"I also can't remember telling you to fight for it."

Ron stood from his chair and sat on the wooden railings of the deck. "But you said..."

He was quickly cut off, "Not to control it. It's up to you to act on it or not."

"I think I'm confused."

"Ah, confusion. That's the first sign of falling in love..."

"Too late for signs now."

"What I mean, Ronald, is that you shouldn't try or more so stop love. It happens. Love her. Just love her." He took another sip from his cup.

"I do. But it can't be that way. If I'll keep on loving her that way, then I'll live regretting being her friend or brother or confidant, but never quite her everything." Without completely knowing it, Ron was starting to voice out what he really felt about the situation. His grandfather was pleased.

"Then you should set your thinking straight, young man. When love happens, one only has two choices. Show it or hide it."

"But what about...?"

He was again cut off, "The risks, you shouldn't be afraid of. Risks are present on whatever choice you'll make."

He ran his hand through his ginger hair, "All I know is that if I tell her, she could reject me. Perhaps she could also love me back. But still, the thought of being rejected by her, the effect of this on our friendship..."

"That's all you know." Said the old man once again interrupting him, "You also need to know that if you keep it inside you risk the chance of being with her and seeing her with the arms of someone else."

Ron hated that point. He has thought of that all right, but only to come up with one conclusion, "Someone who might deserve her better."

"Don't push her away because you're scared! It'll be hard for her to love you back if you won't let her."

"She won't." he stressed.

"Has she told you yet?"

"I know because I've hurt her so many times."

"And in spite of that she keeps on coming back to your life."

The visitor started, it took a few seconds before that fact could sink in. He suddenly felt overwhelmed. "Yeah. I guess that only proves that we've already grew into each other. We're not quite us if one's missing...the three of us."

"There you go. You grew into each other, and not 'fell into'..."

This time it was his turn to interrupt, "That's why I can't risk losing her. Without her all I'm going to be is incomplete."

"You should tell her that."

"Gramps, I don't think you're listening." There was a note of annoyance and frustration in his voice now. Why can't his grandfather get his point? It's quite simple, he can't afford to lose her.

"All right, all right...and I thought you've matured beyond your years only because we're talking about love. You're still the same grumpy 'ickle Ronniekins."

"Ugh!" Well, he couldn't think or do any violent response to that. Besides, it was his grandfather and not one of the twins.

There was a long silence. The smell of dinner started to join the nightfall breeze. "Back then, I was also afraid that your nana doesn't feel the same way about me." Confessed the old man, a mischievous smile crossed his lips.

Ron returned the smile. "Really? But you two, you look like you've been in love since the day you were born."

"We were. After all, it's already written in the stars. But of course, we needed to figure that out first. And to tell you honestly, your nana wasn't that easy to read."

"That's hard to believe now." Everyone knows that grandma Prewett's, or Nana as the kids would call them, her emotions could be easily told. She'd smile when amused but laugh when something's really funny. Her eyes would wet minutes before she'd start crying, she'd frown when mad…they could tell what's coming to them just by looking at her.

'Dinner's ready!' her sweet voice called from inside the house as she peered and gave them an inviting smile. Her husband nodded and returned to Ron, "I know. She was the type who'd keep everything up. She probably has passed it on you. But no need to worry, once out of that shell..."

"You mean I should talk to her about this instead?"

"No Bilius!" spatted his grandfather not liking the way he was cut off and how the question was aksed. "Listen to me. I made her out of her shell. Between the two of us, I made her confess to me." He grinned.

"That's a lie." He responded in disbelief.

"It's true Ronnie." It was his nana walking to join them. She was blushing lightly with embarrassment.

Ron was wide-eyed, "We thought Mum was just joking when she told us that story. You really did that? But..."

She took the seat that Ron vacated a while ago, "Quiet girls, serious girls...all of girls, actually...there's a sort of liberated sides on each of us. Some are just confident enough to use them on everyday basis, but even those who're not would still need to use it every once in a while." The pink shade on her cheeks started to be more visible.

"That probably is true, but I'm not a girl, so it's incomparable."

"Oh, Ronald. Who said we're talking about you?" teased his gramps after handing the bouquet of roses to his partner.

"But you said me and Nana are alike."

"Am I finished yet, boy?"

"Gramps, sometimes I just like to despise you." he mocked back.

"I'm your icon! I made your nana tell me how she felt about me without giving away anything, and that's what you're going to do with your friend."

"I won't pretend to be dead, that's too desperate. And if I'm a tad lucky that Hermione would give the same reaction with Nana's, I don't think I'd want to take that risk either...I'd prefer if she's tamed, you know."

The story his Mum told them was gramps Prewett pretended to be dead and nana was really heartbroken about it. She cried intensely before him and he finally opened his eyes and said it was just a joke. Nana got mad and slapped him full in the face. Gramps kept his grin as if to assure nana that everything was fine and she also should laugh it off only to receive another good slap before he heard her say, "Don't you ever do that again, you idiot! I was so scared. I thought I lost you." she started sobbing and said the rest in a whisper, "I love you, you self important git!"

"Who says you have to copy exactly what I did? Just give her a reason to believe she'd lose you. And don't you laugh at it, it worked!"

"It was cruel!"

"I made sure he got what he deserved." Chuckled nana, and Ron watched as the two held their wrinkled hands together.

"And more than that...", his gramps added looking reproachfully at nana and touching his cheeks as if still feeling the burning sensation of her slap. "Besides, you said you have always been cruel to her, so what's the difference?" he pointed at Ron.

"Gramps..." Ron started to complain.

"Ron, sometimes you have to walk away to see if the other person will follow..."

He knew that gramps wasn't joking anymore when he said that, and Ron replied with all seriousness as well, "What if she doesn't follow?"

"We'll figure that one out later." He pulled nana up and the two walked inside the house. Ron watched them with envy. Will Hermione follow him if he walks away from her? Was a big question he suddenly had to ponder. He stared at the dark sky before following his grandparents inside. Before staring the meal, he figured that gramps was mental for saying the things he said. Him, walk away? Where the hell would he go? Will she follow? If she won't, would she miss him when he's gone?