It was his move. She knew she had him cornered-there was nowhere else to
go. Deep blue eyes concentrated on the black figures in front of him, and
he winced. He had never been defeated before. Ever. He ran a hand though
his fiery red locks, sighing. "Bloody hell." he muttered, clenching his
fists tightly out of anger.
The girl across from him was grinning madly. She knew better than to snicker-he'd throw a tantrum again. Clearing her throat, she fidgeted a bit in her chair, lip caught between her teeth as she absentmindedly twirled her fingers along her equally crimson plait. "Well?"
"Knight to C-4. There. Happy now?" The boy snapped, irritated.
"Elated." Her deep chocolate eyes lit up, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Checkmate!"
The boy huffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't be stupid. I let you win!"
She, of course, rolled her eyes. "All right, whatever you say." She stood up smirking, and stretched her arms. "I have work to do."
His eyebrows shot up, and he stood as well. "You're not going anywhere! We're having a rematch!"
"I don't have time for stupid chess anymore! Just admit that you lost-- it won't kill you, you know."
"But I didn't!" he shouted defiantly, temper beginning to flare. "You. You cheated!"
She arched her brows at him before breaking into a fit of giggles. "Honestly! That's ridiculous! I never cheat and you know it!"
He glared at her, untamed hair falling into his face. "Don't be such a bloody kn-"
"Ethan Ronald Weasley!" But it wasn't the girl who spoke; it was the woman in the kitchen who had come into the sitting room to sort out the argument that was currently disturbing her work. "You know better than to use that tone of voice! Especially with your sister!"
"But Mum!"
"No buts! You know what today is! We have to go to Falling Waters in two hours! Get dressed, both of you!" She turned to her daughter, "Oh, and Charlotte-Wear that new jumper I bought you, all right?" She sent them a weak smile before heading up the steps.
Ethan and Charlotte looked at each other and frowned. They knew that this day was one of the hardest. Even though their eleventh birthday was only a few short weeks away, this was no time to celebrate. It was exactly ten years ago since their biological father had disappeared. They noticed that this day was especially hard for their Mum. Sure, she smiled and carried on with her motherly duties, pretending like everything was normal, but it wasn't. Ethan and Charlotte didn't talk about it, but they both noticed that the twinkle was gone in their Mum's eyes. She looked tired and worn out. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was messier than usual. She'd been crying again. It made the both of them quite uncomfortable when she was like this. They loved their Mum dearly, and hated when she was sad.
Charlotte broke the silence. "Well, I suppose we'd better go on and get dressed."
Ethan shrugged, kicking his toe into the rug. "I s'pose so."
They both scurried upstairs, dreading the rest of the day.
*~*
It was a bright sunny day. There was a light breeze, but overall it was perfect. Not for me, though. How could it have been ten years? Ten years seems like an eternity without him. Oh, how I miss him. I miss everything about him. I miss the brilliant red freckles that covered his face and how more would appear in the summertime. I miss his hair, which changed from a deep crimson colour in the fall and winter to a bright orangey red in the springtime. I miss his contagious laugh and smile. I miss the way he'd look after a victorious quidditch game or chess match. I even miss the possessiveness, procrastination, sarcasm and immaturity that made him so. Ron. Most of all, I miss his voice. I miss the way he used to hold me and tell me how much he loved me. I miss the way he whimpered, pouting after doing something wrong-and how I always forgave him. I miss the way he kissed me, whispering words of admiration and passion in my ear when we made love. I miss everything about him, really, because he was my first love. My only love. The tears I've shed for him could rival the amount of water in the oceans. There was nothing I could do, I know, but it is just so difficult. It's hard to look at our ten-year-old daughter and son, who both have the exact freckles and hair that I'd grown attached to over the years. It's especially hard to look into Ethan's icy blue eyes, because I see Ron every time. I told myself I wouldn't cry today, that I'd be strong for the children, but I felt my lip beginning to quiver, and tears stinging the back of my eyes. I motioned for Charlotte and Ethan to go to the car, and they obeyed without question. They know how difficult this is for me. They're angels, really. And then I re-read his memorial stone for what seemed like the millionth time. Ronald Weasley. Beloved son, husband, friend, and father. Father. It made me so angry. Sure, when Ethan and Charlotte were born, we were a bit apprehensive about parenting, but Ron was a natural. He was such a great father. He loved those babies more than anything. It's not fair. Why did he have to accept that mission? I knew the missions were dangerous for any Auror, but Ron wasn't even particularly nervous about this one. He kissed my forehead and left for work like any other day, but unlike any other day, he didn't return that evening.
I had run away then. Back into the Muggle World with my parents. I panicked and didn't know what to do, especially with Harry gone. The Wizard World was in turmoil, a harsh war that I didn't want my children to be involved in.
They don't know about magic. They don't know about potions, spells, magical games, or the fact that their parents were Head Boy and Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They didn't know their father was the winning quidditch keeper three years in a row, or I had broken the school record for OWLS and NEWTS in fifth and seventh year. They don't know any of it. I shouldn't have been so stupid, though. I suppose Ron's disappearance had caused me to put off the 'magic' talk. Their eleventh birthday is a few weeks away, and I'll be expected to bring Charlotte and Ethan to Platform 9 ¾ in six short months. Ron is supposed to be there with me, sending our children away from home.
I hate the fact that Ron missed his babies grow into two beautiful children. I hate how he missed their first words and steps. He missed Ethan's first chess set (non magical, of course) and victory, and he missed the first story that Charlotte had written. He missed Christmas, their birthdays, and all of the holidays in between. I'm anxious for the future without him, I'll admit. Sometimes I don't know if I can make it through the day, but I always force myself to be strong, for them. And for him.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I look around the cemetery, making sure nobody is in sight. Quickly, I pull my old wand out of my robes, and pick up a rock from the ground. Muttering lightly, I transfigure the rock into a single long stemmed rose. I kiss its petals and place it gently on top of Ron's memorial stone.
I whisper softly, "Goodbye, love. I miss you." And walk away; ready to face another year without him.
*~*
The girl across from him was grinning madly. She knew better than to snicker-he'd throw a tantrum again. Clearing her throat, she fidgeted a bit in her chair, lip caught between her teeth as she absentmindedly twirled her fingers along her equally crimson plait. "Well?"
"Knight to C-4. There. Happy now?" The boy snapped, irritated.
"Elated." Her deep chocolate eyes lit up, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Checkmate!"
The boy huffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't be stupid. I let you win!"
She, of course, rolled her eyes. "All right, whatever you say." She stood up smirking, and stretched her arms. "I have work to do."
His eyebrows shot up, and he stood as well. "You're not going anywhere! We're having a rematch!"
"I don't have time for stupid chess anymore! Just admit that you lost-- it won't kill you, you know."
"But I didn't!" he shouted defiantly, temper beginning to flare. "You. You cheated!"
She arched her brows at him before breaking into a fit of giggles. "Honestly! That's ridiculous! I never cheat and you know it!"
He glared at her, untamed hair falling into his face. "Don't be such a bloody kn-"
"Ethan Ronald Weasley!" But it wasn't the girl who spoke; it was the woman in the kitchen who had come into the sitting room to sort out the argument that was currently disturbing her work. "You know better than to use that tone of voice! Especially with your sister!"
"But Mum!"
"No buts! You know what today is! We have to go to Falling Waters in two hours! Get dressed, both of you!" She turned to her daughter, "Oh, and Charlotte-Wear that new jumper I bought you, all right?" She sent them a weak smile before heading up the steps.
Ethan and Charlotte looked at each other and frowned. They knew that this day was one of the hardest. Even though their eleventh birthday was only a few short weeks away, this was no time to celebrate. It was exactly ten years ago since their biological father had disappeared. They noticed that this day was especially hard for their Mum. Sure, she smiled and carried on with her motherly duties, pretending like everything was normal, but it wasn't. Ethan and Charlotte didn't talk about it, but they both noticed that the twinkle was gone in their Mum's eyes. She looked tired and worn out. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was messier than usual. She'd been crying again. It made the both of them quite uncomfortable when she was like this. They loved their Mum dearly, and hated when she was sad.
Charlotte broke the silence. "Well, I suppose we'd better go on and get dressed."
Ethan shrugged, kicking his toe into the rug. "I s'pose so."
They both scurried upstairs, dreading the rest of the day.
*~*
It was a bright sunny day. There was a light breeze, but overall it was perfect. Not for me, though. How could it have been ten years? Ten years seems like an eternity without him. Oh, how I miss him. I miss everything about him. I miss the brilliant red freckles that covered his face and how more would appear in the summertime. I miss his hair, which changed from a deep crimson colour in the fall and winter to a bright orangey red in the springtime. I miss his contagious laugh and smile. I miss the way he'd look after a victorious quidditch game or chess match. I even miss the possessiveness, procrastination, sarcasm and immaturity that made him so. Ron. Most of all, I miss his voice. I miss the way he used to hold me and tell me how much he loved me. I miss the way he whimpered, pouting after doing something wrong-and how I always forgave him. I miss the way he kissed me, whispering words of admiration and passion in my ear when we made love. I miss everything about him, really, because he was my first love. My only love. The tears I've shed for him could rival the amount of water in the oceans. There was nothing I could do, I know, but it is just so difficult. It's hard to look at our ten-year-old daughter and son, who both have the exact freckles and hair that I'd grown attached to over the years. It's especially hard to look into Ethan's icy blue eyes, because I see Ron every time. I told myself I wouldn't cry today, that I'd be strong for the children, but I felt my lip beginning to quiver, and tears stinging the back of my eyes. I motioned for Charlotte and Ethan to go to the car, and they obeyed without question. They know how difficult this is for me. They're angels, really. And then I re-read his memorial stone for what seemed like the millionth time. Ronald Weasley. Beloved son, husband, friend, and father. Father. It made me so angry. Sure, when Ethan and Charlotte were born, we were a bit apprehensive about parenting, but Ron was a natural. He was such a great father. He loved those babies more than anything. It's not fair. Why did he have to accept that mission? I knew the missions were dangerous for any Auror, but Ron wasn't even particularly nervous about this one. He kissed my forehead and left for work like any other day, but unlike any other day, he didn't return that evening.
I had run away then. Back into the Muggle World with my parents. I panicked and didn't know what to do, especially with Harry gone. The Wizard World was in turmoil, a harsh war that I didn't want my children to be involved in.
They don't know about magic. They don't know about potions, spells, magical games, or the fact that their parents were Head Boy and Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They didn't know their father was the winning quidditch keeper three years in a row, or I had broken the school record for OWLS and NEWTS in fifth and seventh year. They don't know any of it. I shouldn't have been so stupid, though. I suppose Ron's disappearance had caused me to put off the 'magic' talk. Their eleventh birthday is a few weeks away, and I'll be expected to bring Charlotte and Ethan to Platform 9 ¾ in six short months. Ron is supposed to be there with me, sending our children away from home.
I hate the fact that Ron missed his babies grow into two beautiful children. I hate how he missed their first words and steps. He missed Ethan's first chess set (non magical, of course) and victory, and he missed the first story that Charlotte had written. He missed Christmas, their birthdays, and all of the holidays in between. I'm anxious for the future without him, I'll admit. Sometimes I don't know if I can make it through the day, but I always force myself to be strong, for them. And for him.
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I look around the cemetery, making sure nobody is in sight. Quickly, I pull my old wand out of my robes, and pick up a rock from the ground. Muttering lightly, I transfigure the rock into a single long stemmed rose. I kiss its petals and place it gently on top of Ron's memorial stone.
I whisper softly, "Goodbye, love. I miss you." And walk away; ready to face another year without him.
*~*