One shot.
Ron Weasley/ Reader
Angst but a happy ending.
Enjoy.
If you were to enter the house at 212 Bleaker Street, the sounds you would hear would start out muddled and fuzzy, a word or phrase cutting clearly through the white noise behind the solid oak doors at the end of an extravagant hallway. The frequency with which the words became more audible and clear sped up drastically as the level of sound rose.
"I don't give a flying fig how much money you make, the sickles in our bank account never mattered to me! I just want you home, just to be with me."
" You certainly cared about those sickles when you were running all those charities, didn't ya?"
"If you think for one second that I married you for anything other than just you, you're not only incorrect you might be delusional!" A feminine voice, a feminine shriek really, shouted from one side of the room.
"You are making me late with your paranoia! I'm doing this for us, for you! You really think I enjoy being gone all the time?" A much deeper, masculine voice bellowed from the opposite side of the room.
Luckily for the occupied couple, only the house elves were privy to their passionate disagreement, and as they had been in employ with this paticular Mistress and Master for over 3 years, they had become quite accustomed to this particular breed of noise.
"You must enjoy it, if you keep vonlunteering for the over time, we so obviously don't need! Don't walk away from me, Ron!" The feminine voice pleaded, rather loudly.
"I have to go, love! I'm already late, we'll talk about it later tonight, alright?" The man, or Ron rather, huffed as he pushed open the the heavy double doors that lead to the master bedroom.
His wife, sped after him, on the verge of tears.
"There won't be a later, Ronald Weasley! If you walk out that door right now, I will not be here when you get back."
The final words, although spoken more quietly than the first, seemed to ring in the large space, like an explosion had just gone off. They had a presence as they echoed off the high ceilings and obscure French paintings, causing the two occupants of the room to freeze.
Ron turned around to face his wife, his face awash with utter annoyance.
"Like I haven't heard that before." he huffed, while rolling his eyes.
She did cry then, gut wrenching sobs that did nothing but cause her husband to growl in frustration and check his luxurious watch.
He hurriedly stepped closer to her, gave her a quick peck on the cheek and held her arms, in what could have easily been mistaken as comfort. Had been mistaken as comfort, for years now.
"You know I love you." He said in little more than a huff, before he once more headed for the door. "I'll see you when I get home, I'll grab that sushi you like, ya?"
The comment was thrown over his shoulder, tossed like a dead fish had been flopped onto the floor, it was loud and wet and disgusting.
"I don't like sushi." She brokenly whispered to the empty house, the BANG of the front door closing having more of an impact than her words ever did.
She sighed, he didn't believe her, he never did. She had left him before, he'd chased her down, brought her back and then a week down the line they'd been right back where they'd left off.
She loved him, had loved him since she was 17 years old, since the gangly red head had tripped over his words and feet as he'd asked her to a Hogsmead Weekend, during her 7th and his 8th year at Hogwarts.
The once romantic life they'd led had changed since then, it became less and less... just less as the years ticked by. She loved him like family now, but not in the way a wife should love a husband.
There had been no physical manifestation of their love in over two years. She never knew if he had found a bed to share outside of their own, but if his appetites hadn't changed since their honey moon three and half years earlier, then she had deduced that he must have a mistress tucked away someplace.
Regardless of that, his acts which were unforgivable were not all to do with infedelity.
"Mungo."
"Yes, Miss, How may Mungo be of service?" The elf she had chosen to bond with after their engagement, at Ron's insistance, had been a baby at the time, losing his mother and father to the battle of Hogwarts, she hadn't thought twice about choosing him, his uncle, Barnacle, had begged to come with the child, his only remaining family, she had happily agreed.
"Would you and Barnacle pack my belongings and shrink them all down into my old school trunk, please?" She asked in a near whisper.
This wasn't the first time he'd been asked to pack her a bag, but it was the first time he'd been asked to pack everything. Mungo's eyes widened and then he bowed, popping off to grab his uncle and retrieve her things.
Ferbus, Ron's elf, chuckled from behind a pillar, he had also watched this scene play out before, and after the first and second time's, had been ordered not to disturb his Master for such trivial things. The Mistress would return, she always did. So he whistled as he continued on with his chores.
She found her self at her writing desk, a box with a letter to Ronald, her rings and all the other jewelry he'd purchased over the years, carefully organized inside. There wasn't a single piece she would miss, none had been bought for her liking, but rather for her husband's, another way to ahow his social standing. They made him much happier than they'd ever made her and so she thought he deserved to have them. She'd instructed the elves to take nothing which had been purchased by the Master and so her belongings hadn't taken nearly so long to shrink and pack away.
She'd written letters to her beloved Mother-in-law and to Harry just so he might have a heads up, as Ron's best mate. She added viles of memories to the box as an afterthought. Half of what she'd been through with Ron wasn't believable unless you were present, and since he would never see any harm in what he'd done, he would never own up to it. She didn't want to leave in such a dramatic way, but she'd tried quiet and subtle before, and she'd learned from her mistakes.
She tucked the envelopes and shrunken box into her lavender colored robes, a set she'd fallen in love with and simply had to buy, much to her husband's displeasure who preferred her in red, which meant she loved them all the more now, and headed downstairs.
She took one last look about the house, letting go of a future she would never see come to fruition, the children that would never run through the hallway, the Holiday get-togethers and birthday parties these walls would never witness.
The elves, who had been purchased by her, at her insistance, had packed as well, another detail that was slightly new this time. They walked out of the beautiful French provintial home, swept by a lovely garden and past the weather wards and into a cold and rainy street in the middle of London. Before popping away she asked her elves to check her person and belongings for tracking charms and devices, they found 5.
~
The elves took her to the Burrow where she had an errand to run before they made an escape. After Mungo applied the strongest concealing charms he knew to hide her puffy redness she went inside to greet her family.
"Oh, it's so lovely to see you, Dear." Molly bustled around her kitchen making tea, getting her daughter-in-law into a seat and putting some of her home made treats onto a platter.
"We missed Ron at Sunday dinner, again. But we're so glad you could make it, of course, hopefully it'll be the pair of you next time."
If there was ever one thing that Molly Weasley wasn't, it's subtle.
"I'm sorry I cant stay for long, Molly. I've got some errands to run." She told her, trying her hardest to keep her emotions in check for just a bit longer.
"Oh, what a shame. At least have a cuppa, the weather is atrocious." She told her, sliding her a tea cup, prepared just the way she liked it.
They sipped in companionable silence, until only a few treats were left and just the tea leaves remained in the pot.
As she stood to leave she unshrunk the box from her pocket and pulled out two envelopes.
"I was wondering if you could keep this here for Ron, he'll probably be stopping by within the next few days and I was hoping you'd give it to him then." She asked as she slid the box over.
"A surprise is it?" Molly chuckled, no doubt imagining something naughty inside. "I'd be happy to ,Dear. Don't you worry about a thing."
The pair hugged each other, and if she held on just a bit tighter and longer, Molly didn't mention it.
"I love you, Molly." She whispered.
Taken aback Molly held her daughter-in-law at arms length to look her in the eye.
"Is everything alright, Dear?"
"Everything's fine, Molly." She said as convincingly as possible, her smile slipping slightly. "Don't worry."
They waved goodbye and Molly sighed, worried in spite of being told to do the exact opposite. She huffed as she set the dishes to washing themselves and the crumbs into the bin. Only then did she notice the two envelopes left near the box, both signed in a handwriting she clearly recognized, one with Molly and the other with Harry.
~
One opened envelope lay on the ground where it had been torn away to reveal the secrets it held within. The mother reading at its contents was sobbing, clutching to her apron in guilt and grief as she suddenly bolted for the flue, a vile of swirling silver in her hand, she needed to see her husband.
~
When Arthur Weasley came barreling into his son's office he had expected to see his youngest son hunched over paperwork. As head for The Department of Magical Games and Sports, Arthur couldn't imagine how his son would have time for anything else.
Instead he found him with a woman, whom he assumed to be his secretary, he'd never be able to mistake those long blonde locks for his daughter-in-law, straddling him and feeding him fruit by hand.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"
The romantic picnic went flying across the office as Ron and his company flung into action to right themselves.
"Dad?" Ron asked in bewilderment, straightening his expensive robes, and slicking back his hair.
What followed would come to be know as The Weasley Incident. Ministry workers fled from the very sight of Arthur Weasley, for months to follow. Minister Shakelbot was made aware of the situation and interviened, and by intervien it should be read as, the Minister then took over the chewing out of one Ronald B. Weasley, but in a more official capacity. Ronald's secretary was reassigned to another department, while Ronald himself was demoted.
~
Returning home from his long hard day at work, was meant to be a blessing. But finding Ferbus wringing his hands and muttering to himself only signaled to more problems.
Before he could ask his elf for an explanation, Ron suddenly found himself on the floor with a throbbing jaw and an irate Savior of the Wizarding World fuming at him from above.
"I've seen the memories." Harry spat at him. "Care to explain yourself?"
Ronald just couldn't catch a break today and in his anger lunged for his best mate, intent on doing some damage.
Harry, on the fast track to becoming head Auror had not let his physical fitness fall to the way side and easily sidestepped his friend's wild pounce.
He'd had a row with his wife this morning, his special time with Veronica had been interrupted, his Father had yelled at him about Merlin knows what, then the Minister himself had yelled at and demoted him, now he comes home and his best friend is taking swings at him. What the bloody hell was going on today?
"Where is she, Ron?" Harry asked when he grew tired of watching Ron's pathetic attempts at attacking him.
"What?" Ron responded dumbly.
The growl that came from Harry wasn't one Ron had ever had directed at himself. In all their years of friendship, Harry never seemed as angry as he did right then.
"Where is your wife?" He asked again, slowly enunciating each word, his growl still prominent.
"Here! Where else would she be?" Ron yelled back in frustration.
"No, Ron, she isn't."
And with that Harry threw a box at Ron's feet, it clanged with a metallic echo. Heavy with more than the material objects it contained.
Ron opened it and searched the contents of the box, ignoring the letter that had been carefully placed on top. Once he seemed to find what he'd been searching for he turned his attention to the letter. He rolled his eyes with a huff as he began to open it.
"I never would have believed it." Harry angrily muttered.
He started pacing causing Ron to scooch back on his bum in case Harry went for him again.
"Even with the memories, I never would have believed you treated her that way unless I saw you go through that box with my own eyes." He growled out, yanking at his hair as he continued to pace. He struck out towards Ron who flinched away from him, as if the look in Harry's eyes could hurt him.
"My only regret is that this isn't illegal, but it should be." He huffed and shook his head as he made his way to the firplace and then in a cloud of green smoke, he flued away.
It was a very confused Ron who forgot about the letter he'd been in the middle of opening and dragged himself into bed, where he promptly passed out.
~
It wouldn't be more than 10 hours later at 7 AM when his Mum would come crashing into his bedroom. Eyes ablaze and demanding answers. She'd scream and then cry, then her wand would point at him and then she'd give him such a look of pity.
Then she held up the vile of memories, "For your sake, I hope these have been tampered with." She whispered.
And just like she'd come she was gone in instant. Ron took the opportunity to grab another hour or two of sleep.
~
It would be a few days later that Ron would find himself in an official investigation. The acts committed in the memories, though not criminal, were cruel. So the internal investigation, led by the Minister himself, would be held publically and the memories put on display. It had been decided after the war that all marital disputes, when not criminal, should be held in this way. This was the first time the rule had ever been used.
Ron didn't remember half of the memories, they were all so trivial. So he preferred her in red and spoke his displeasure at anything else she purchased, so what? So she had gained some weight, and he'd locked the pantry, it was only right for a husband to care for his wife's appearance. But the one about the baby, apparently that one was bad.
The gasp of the gathered crowd, mostly family and coworkers, told him so. His mother's sobs, and the muttered curses from his brother's mouths, told him so. But the look on Victoria's face, that especially told him how bad it was, when she left the room sobbing, he knew he'd messed up.
"Ronald Weasley," the Minister began, "although your actions may not be punishable by law, I have no doubt that your future business dealings inside the ministry, if any are allowed at all, will be carefully monitored by an Auror at all times, and should they find any of your dealings to not be legal in any way, you well be charged to the fullest extent of the law."
Here the Minister took a breath, to let the ruling sink in. The new standard with which these sorts of actions would be treated in the wizarding world, rang through the room. A warning and shining beacon to any couple facing their own disputes.
Social punishment, it had been called. No, you wouldn't do time in an Azkaban cell, but your social life would suffer, your personal life and failings broadcast to the entire wizarding world, your career would fail since you'd be deemed a social leper. An outcast of polite society.
Ron never thought he'd have need to fear such a ruling. In fact he remembered hoping Malfoy or Mcormic got caught up by their spouses and publicly shunned.
How the tables had turned.
"Have you anything to say for your actions? Keep in mind that all testimony is taken into account for my final ruling." The Minister finally asked.
"My wife and I were happy, Minister. We had our spats, just like anyone else, but nothing too bad." He took a breath here, they needed to know of his innocence in all this.
"She was jealous of my secretary, said I spent more time with her than my own wife, and she hated my high ranking job." She was jealous and petty and they needed to know that.
"After the thing with the baby, I made her quit working. Told her it must have been stress, that a woman couldn't handle kids and a job and she'd have to choose one. It was her fault she lost the baby and she needed to face the hard truth." His own mother couldn't handle both, there's no way his wife could have.
"She took everything so personally, cried all the time, it was enough to drive a man mental. Any time we could spend apart, I thought was best, give her a chance to calm down and all. But we really were happy, and she loves me, I know she does." His peace spoken, now all he had to do was wait for sweet vindication.
The silence that permiated the room, spoke volumes to Ron. They were all in shock, he thought. Of course this was all the work of a slighted and jealous wife. How dare they blame him? He was a victim too.
The look on the Minister's face, however, spoke to the opposite.
"Ronald Weasley, I hearby banish you from the ministry, you will no longer work for or associate with it's good name. You have proven yourself to be, in the least, callous and self-absorbed. The business dealings of the ministry can not be trusted in the hands of someone with a character such as yours. You have until the end of the business day to collect your personal things, at which time you will be added to our black list, which will see you arrested if you are to enter these premises again. Do you understand, Mr. Weasley?"
No, Ron most certainly did not understand. Not in the slightest. But one look from his family told him to agree and so he nodded.
"Auror Potter, please escort him to his office." He directed at Harry and then to the rest of the assembly, "This meeting is adjourned."
~
While the life of one Ronald Weasley was falling to pieces, half way across the world his now ex-wife was enjoying her time of recovery and relaxation in a cottage near the sea.
She received letters from family and friends, at first begging her to return, to reconsider her actions, to be more forgiving. But after the ruling, the letters changed. They became apologies, well wishes and yet still some begging her to return.
What she had expected but didn't receive was a howler, thankfully Molly turned out to be her staunchest advocate. If you can get Molly Weasley on your side, the opposition didn't stand a chance.
She only hoped she might still be welcome after things calmed down. Her own family, all muggles had not desire to see her, feeling abandoned after her years at Hogwarts, they wanted nothing to do with her or the world she claimed. The Weasleys were the only family she'd had for quite some time, claiming her as soon as she'd been introduced to them by Ronald at their graduation.
"Mungo."
With a pop, Mungo arrived smiling.
"Yes, Miss, what can Mungo fetch you?"
"Would you care to go for a walk with me? The beach looks lovely at sunset, perhaps Barnacle would join us?" She asked her sweet elf, whose somber temperament had quickly evaporated once away from the Master who didn't care for his beloved Mistress.
"Yes, Miss, Mungo will go ask him." He replied, excitement lighting his eyes.
~
The walk was refreshing, the cool winds whipping off the waves, blowing her hair and wrap about her.
Mungo and Barnacle walked alonside her smiling as they collected shells for their Mistress. Bringing each one so that it might lovingly be inspected and either be given new purpose or left in peace.
"I think that's plenty for now." She told them, the nursery was filling up and they didn't have many projects in need of shells anymore.
"Is the Mistress tired? Barnacle can take her back now." Barnacle the sweet elderly elf, was a hoverer and she found she couldn't help but smile at his kindness.
"I'm alright to walk, but thank you, Barnacle." He preened under her praise and took her hand as Mungo took the other so they might lead her back to the cottage.
~
The nursery, painted a soft yellow, was indeed filled with shells, only a few wall hangings and the mobile needed a few more before they were finished. As she sat in the rocker near a made up crib she hummed as she threaded shells onto a line to finish the mobile. When it was all done, it was immediately hung for her and she smiled at its simplistic beauty.
Caressing her swollen middle she smiled at her elves, who also couldn't help but caress their soon to come Master or Mistress.
"I can't wait to meet you. I'm sure Grandma Molly will be thrilled, too."
As the sun set near the sea, she once again found herself at her writing desk. Once again penning a letter to Molly Weasley, but if a vastly different kind.
Thank you for reading.
-SkullsandKisses