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Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling.

Based on a prompt on Reddit

BAKE DAYS

-There weren't many things that Ron Weasley could offer to his family to console them after the war. But sometimes, just being there and being himself could help in the long run-

'I have seen your heart and it is mine'

'Least loved as always'

'You can do the cooking tomorrow Ron, you can find the ingredients and try and charm them into something worth eating, and I'll sit here and pull faces'

'It's not like I'm not having the time of my life here,'

'-my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night!'

'My parents are dead!'

.

Ron Weasley woke up in cold sweat, his heart beating furiously and his eyes glistening with unshed tears. His gaze fell on the darkened walls of his own room, and a familiar feeling of safety enveloped him. He was no longer in a tent complaining, or running for his life with a madman looking for his blood.

A quick look to his right assured that his best friend was finally sleeping peacefully on bed beside him, with no nightmares troubling him.

Ron sighed. His fingers rubbed his sweaty forehead, there's going to be no more sleep for him tonight. He grabbed his wand from under his pillow, and casted a Tempus.

Soft blue light illuminated the darkened room, and it read 3.30 in the morning. With another sigh, he got up from his bed, and dragged his feet out of his door to go down to the kitchens. Some tea would be nice right about that moment.

His mind wandered to the nightmare that he had, while the details were lost, he could still remember the voice, the images that pored out the locket Horcrux. A cold dreaded feeling went down his spine. he could have ignored the nightmare if it was just his imagination. But, it truly really happened. He left his best friends in the middle of nowhere when they needed him, and the guilt weighed in his heart so bad that it hurt.

Yes, Harry had looked him in the eye and clasped his shoulder firmly, and told him he had forgiven him, and Hermione had kissed him on the lips with tears in her eyes and told him he came back when they needed him the most, and that she had forgiven him. But, Ron still couldn't put the guilt out of his chest, and it hurt more that he wanted to think.

The last of the steps gave a squeak as he stepped on it, and he finally walked into the kitchen, his mind swirling with not so positive thoughts and -

He stopped, as his gaze fell on the person sitting at the family table, a cup of steaming liquid secured in her hands.

"Mum?" He asked, his long legs instantly taking him towards the Weasley Matriarch.

Molly Weasley was quiet, but her body was wrenching with silent sobs, and her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Mum," Ron tried again and wrapped his arms around her, in order to calm her down. He felt his heart break. Ever since he was little, he had never seen his mother cry until after the war, for F-Fred. It was painful, to see his happy family so devastated, so gloomed and in the verge of tears.

Ron placed a hand in his mother's head, and kissed her forehead, like she used to do to him all those years ago when he fell sick with anything more than a headache.

He looked at the table, which was empty except for the steaming cup of tea, and decided to do something about it.

He bent down to look straight at his crying mother, and wiped her tears. "I'll be back mum"

Ron walked towards the counter, and picked up the biscuit jar that was usually filled to the brim. But, to his disappointment, the jar was empty except for the small crumbs at the bottom of it.

Ron sighed again. The jar always used to be filed to the brim with his mom's special biscuits. When he and his siblings were young and upset about somethings, his mother always used to give biscuits and tea. But now, the jar was empty. And he had no bloody idea what he should do.

What could he do? He couldn't possibly cook. He tried once, when he was at Bill's, trying to help Fleur with something or the other. But needless to say, he nearly set the house on fire.

A shiver went down his spine. Well, baking couldn't do any worse could it? If he burned something, he had his wand with him this time, so it wouldn't be so bad. Hopefully.

With that in mind, Ron took the flour out of it's container and roughly measured a few cups an put it to a bowl. If he was honest with himself, Ron had no idea what he was doing.

True to that, it didn't take him more than a few moments to be covered with flour from head to toe, and his fingers to be laced with not so good looking biscuit dough. It looked a little too watery for his eyes. Maybe more flour? Shrugging, he reached for the flour jar again, but alas, the container slipped off form his slimy hands and fell on to the floor, giving away a big racket of noise.

Needless to say, it didn't take Molly more than a second to flash in and look for the person who had invaded her kitchen.

The Weasley Matriarch, the world's best cook (according to Ron, at least) , the mother of seven kids, who had a fierce determination in her eyes when she protected them, who had tears straining down her eyes just a moment ago, took a good look at flour covered Ron with slime dripping off his fingers and an awkward half smile at the corner of his lips. She gave a big teary laugh and walked over to him and hugged him, ignoring his protests on ruining her clothes.

Ron Weasley felt that maybe he had failed in his attempt to bake, but nonetheless, he brought a smile to his mother's face and that was enough.

And maybe, if he asked, his mother wouldn't mind sharing the secret recipe of her biscuits with him.

Who knows, this might turn into a Ron Weasley one-shot collection.

Thanks for reading. Leave a review and let me know what you think. :)