Ron's Memoirs

by Quidditch

It's a new generation, and they want to hear stories of the past. A few memorable particapants are around to tell them...

A/N: This was just an idea I had. It's kind of sketchy for now, but I'll work on it and post more. I've decided I won't pressure myself, cause otherwise it'll be crappy. But I'm going to write when I feel the need to, so don't expect posts every other day or something like that. Thanks so much to Anne for beta-ing for me! She helped tons!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, etc belong to J.K.R., although WB has taken them over as their own. Please don't shut down my website….sniff….sniff….

Ron''"''''s Memoirs:

Part 1:

The Grandchildren

Lena and Sutton laughed aloud when their little sister descended down the stairs.

"Gabbie!" Lena called to her, "What in Merlin's name are you wearing?"

"It's beautiful," the four-year old stated, and somehow managed to twirl around. The bright blue robes she was wearing trailed behind her over her feet, and the sleeves alone reached her knees. "I found it in Mommy's closet."

"Honey, you can't wear that to Grandpa's," Sutton said, choking on his laughter and ruffling Gabbie's red hair.

"I can too," she replied, crossing her arms.

"Sure, just wait until Mom sees you. I'm SURE she'll let you wear it." Sutton turned and went towards the living room, sat and threw his feet onto the couch. "Shouldn't we've left by now?" As if in reply, his mother called out to her children.

"We're late! And get your feet off the furniture." Sutton muttered something inaudible (and most likely not for his sisters' ears) about his mother's psychic powers.

"We're ready Mom, we've been waiting for you." Lena responded.

"All right, let me see you." She lined the children up, as if to inspect them. 'She' was a tall, thin woman with stark red hair, graying slightly. "Gabbie! What have you got on! Those look like old robes of mine."

"They are Mommy," she said innocently, "They're beauuuuutiful."

"Well," she sighed, "we haven't got time for you to change. Quickly, into the dining room, grab the Floo Powder and go. Gabbie, here sweetheart," Laura reached her arms out to the four-year old and pulled her up to her hip. "C'mon, we're late. Grandpa is waiting." And with that, Sutton, Lena, and Gabbie and her mother each stepped into the fireplace and called out 'The Burrow!'.

Gabbie fell into a coughing fit once in the fireplace, and Laura was forced to hold her daughter upright, to keep her from hitting her head against the many fireplaces. "Here we are," she whispered gently into her ear. "Grandpa's."

She stepped carefully into the living room, which looked the same as it had when she'd been six.

"My little Gabbie, what in the world are you wearing?" An elderly man called out to his granddaughter.

"Grampy! I missed you!" She jumped from her mother's arms and wrapped herself firmly around her grandfather's knees.

"Hello there, My Gabbie. And Laura, how are you darling?" He bent to kiss his daughter's forehead.

"I'm all right, Dad. Tired, but that's normal. How are you feeling?"

"Fit as a fiddle. Grandma's got dinner cooking, so we've got some time for some chit-chat. Gabbie, come 'ere." He pulled Gabbie into his lap and Lena and Sutton sat at his feet. Laura headed to the kitchen to help her mother.

"Grampy," whispered Gabbie, pulling on his ear, "Tell me a story."

Sutton and Lena, although they were pretending to be too old, leaned forward.

"What kind of story?"

"Grandpa," Sutton interrupted, "Did you go to Hogwarts?"

"Where did you ever hear about Hogwarts?"

"In History class. They told me Harry Potter destroyed it. He was saving the school from Voldermort." Their Grandfather shuddered slightly.

"Ahh, and do you know all about Harry Potter?"

"He saved us Grampy, Sutton told me the story once. It was scary."

"Sutton, how do you know? History class, I suppose?" Sutton nodded. "Lena, have you heard the story?"

"Only up until he was fourteen, I'm in a lower class then Sutton."

"Of course, you being younger." He chuckled at his own forgetfulness. "Well," he paused dramatically, "I know the whole story."

"You do Grampy?" Gabbie asked curiously, suddenly very interested.

"Yes. I knew Harry Potter."

"No way", "That's Awesome", and "Did you ever touch him?" were all shouted simultaneously.

"I did. I knew all about his adventures. He and I were the same age. We were in the same class. Same dormitory. He was my best friend."

Sutton and Lena glanced at each other. They knew of their grandfather's forgetfulness and his tendency to re-tell things, believing them to be his own memories. He seemed so happy though, that they were wondering about something he knew. It was often he became easily depressed, seeing his grandchildren knew many new things he did not. With a flicker in their eyes, they decided to allow their grandfather to recollect his 'memory'.

"The summer before our fifth year, we were both fourteen and You-Know-Who," at his grandchildren's confused faces, he cleared his throat, "who you know as Voldermort, was beginning to regain power. It was the summer before my fifth year, and every morning, I would wake up and whine to my mother, begging her to ask my headmaster for his permission for Harry to spend the summer at our house.

You see, he lived with these awful Muggles -"

"We know Grandpa," Sutton interrupted.

"Oh, of course. Well, the headmaster seemed to have this wild notion that the Muggles could protect Harry."

"But Grandpa," It was Lena this time. "That was the first thing they ever told us. Dumbledore had placed the security wards over the Muggles' house to protect Harry. They'd been up since he was brought there when he was one."

"Yes, but neither Harry nor I knew that. Only Dumbledore did. So we were all outraged that he was sending Harry to live with those awful Muggles again. We just couldn't understand it. So all through July my mother tried and tried to get Dumbledore's permission, but he promised her that it wasn't the time, and he'd let her know when Harry could finally come and stay. We assumed he had some sort of plan, so I'd owl Harry…wait. Do you kids all know what 'owling' is?"

"Yeah Grandpa. Those really slow animals used to bring letters to the peoples."

"Very good Gabbie. But that was all we had when I was a kid. So I'd owl him letting him know that we were still thinking about him. And every day I'd get an owl back, but for the whole first week in August, no letter. It only worried me a little, but I tried not to think about it. I owled your Grandmother, but she hadn't gotten a response in even longer. So that was when we got worried. My mother owled Dumbledore, but no luck, he hadn't heard from him either. Panic ensued, and we all searched for him."

"Was he ok, Grampy?"

"Yeah," the old man smiled wistfully, "The bugger was just trying to get to your Grandmother's house."

"Grammy Mimone?" asked Gabbie, who'd always had trouble with her Grandmother's name.

"The one and only. He figured if he came to my house, my mother would send him right home. So he went there, and, when we found him, Dumbledore agreed he'd spent enough time with those Muggles and gave him permission to stay with my family. Your Grandmother came as well, the three of us were best friends.

"The summer was fun, we always tried to forget all the awful things we knew were going on in the wizarding world. It was a scary time; we knew it'd be the worst for Harry, so Voldermort's name was not mentioned once in my household that summer.

"Going back to school was very ordinary as well. We took the train and got to school and went to our classes and it was relatively calm. But it was too calm. You all know of the years before, so you know how often outrageous things were happening at Hogwarts. So when nothing strange happened, we began to worry. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, was constantly…"

"Grampy…Grampy…I know who Sirius Black is." Gabbie tugged at the bottom of her grandfather's robes.

"Who, Gabbers?"

"He's on the statue outside my school."

"I wouldn't be surprised, he's very famous now. He was Harry's godfather and helped us out a lot. At one point, he'd been convicted as a murderer, but when I was sixteen, it was realized that he was innocent. So where was I…" But he was interrupted once more, by a holler from the kitchen.

"Ron! Ron! Stop telling those kids stories and come eat dinner with us." The children's grandmother appeared in the doorway. "You've distracted them, and not one has said hello to me yet." She smiled, as all three children stood and rushed towards her.

Her bushy gray hair was beginning to fall from the tight bun in the back of her head in small curly strands, and Gabbie immediately twisted one around her finger.

"Grammy Mimone, I like your Curly-Qs."

"Curly-Qs?"

"That's what Mommy calls them. Grammy, did you really know Harry Potter?"

"Oh, Ron," she said, glancing at her husband. "Don't be telling them anything that'll give 'em nightmares."

"Sweetheart, it's history."

"It's one thing if they learn it in a class, another if they know their GRANDFATHER was involved."

"Oh, they're all right, aren't you kids?"

"We're fine Grammy."

"I've heard it all any way!"

"Have you, Sutton?"

"Grammy?" Gabbie tugged her grandmother's hand, until she bent down to Gabbie's level. "I was a little scared," she whispered, "but don't tell Sutton and Lena, they'll only tease me."

"They'll be no such thing at my house. Come on, it's time for dinner." Sutton and Lena ran in front, with Gabbie towing behind them.

Hermione grabbed Ron's large hand in her two, fragile ones. He pulled her hands up to his mouth and kissed them lightly. He draped an arm across her shoulder, hugged her quickly, then headed eagerly for the dining room, hungry himself.

As they all sat down, they bowed their heads in quick thanks, then dug in, the conversation light because of all the food. But conversations quickly picked up, and Harry Potter's name was heard more than once.

"Dad," said Laura, overhearing Harry Potter for the eighth time, "You weren't telling them those stories, were you?"

Ron looked wildly about, hurt that he'd been accused. "Of course not! Right kids?" he winked at them, causing Gabbie to snigger behind her napkin.

"Daaaad."

"Laura, you know it's not attractive to whine."

"Stop trying to change the subject."

"I'm not, but you'll never meet a nice man if you whine all the time."

"I met a nice man, Dad, look where it's left me. Now please, don't tell the children those stories."

"I won't." A wink. "I swear." Laura glared at him, but couldn't help laughing at his wounded look. She glanced at the clock on the wall.

"We should go, we can't get home too late."

"Moooom," whined Lena.

"Lena, don't whine."

"Mom, that's kinda hypocritical." Sutton pointed out.

"Sutton, don't start with me. Say good-by and thank you."

There was a loud chorus of 'Goodbye!'s and 'Thank you!'s as each child kissed their grandparents and headed for the living room.

"Thanks Mom, I'll talk to you later. Goodnight Dad."

"Goodnight Laura." Ron Weasley kissed his daughter on the cheek, then followed her into the living room. "You know," he said, causing his grandchildren to turn expectantly. "We've just finished those guestrooms upstairs, all three of them…"

"No, Dad. Don't start this." But she was too late. In less than a second, all three of her children were pulling on her leg, whining. "Dad!"

He shrugged. "It was just a comment. The guestrooms are finished. It doesn't mean anything, unless…" He winked. "I just had a brilliant idea! Would the kids want to stay the night?" Hermione smiled at her husband's tactics.

"Well…" Laura began.

"Oh thank you Mom!" exclaimed Lena.

"We get to stay! Yea!" cried Gabbie.

"I didn't say that…" But Laura was cut off again. All three of her children were running towards the stairs.

"I get the attic room!" shouted Sutton.

"Oh come on!" Lena yelled. They stormed up the stairs, fighting to get to the coveted room first.

"Are you sure Dad?" Laura smiled to her father.

"Of course, I love these kids."

"How bout you, Mom? Will you survive?"

"I always do."

Laura called to her children, who came running down the stairs. "My goodness, were there elephants in the house?"

"Where Mommy?"

"It's just an expression, Gabbs. Now, I'm going home, I want you to behave yourselves."

"We will," they chorused.

"And help Grandpa and Grammy."

"Of course."

"And Sutton, denome the garden."

"Oooooooh!" he whined.

"Or you can come home with me."

"All right! I'll do the garden!"

"Give me a kiss, and sleep well. Good night. Thanks Mom and Dad." With that, Laura turned to the fireplace and went home. Her exit was followed by a chorus of shouts of excitement.

"All right," said their grandfather, rubbing his hands together with a mischevious grin on his face, "Who wants some Butterbeer?"