Summary: Molly Weasley thinks about her youngest son.
Disclaimer: Yeah right, in my dreams. I am SO not J.K Rowling!
Authors Note: This is my way of seeing Ron, just to all those who follow my stories. You can get a better visual.
I hummed to myself as I knitted. Then he was just there. Standing in front of me. Ron.
I loved the way children just change year by year. Ron's hair was long. At least, only a few inches longer than it had been in 3rd year. His tired eyes stared at me through a few fiery locks of hair.
Ron was quiet when he wasn't around his friends. I just loved him.
But my heart ached for him in a way. I felt bad for him and I had no idea why.
Probably because he seemed lonely. Hermione outsmarted him, she an overachiever and Ron just doing whatever he could to stay on the quidditch team. Harry being famous. Ginny and Ron sued to be friends but now she was a player. Dating guy after guy trying to find one that would stay with her.
Ron was a gorgeous boy now. But he plays hard to get.
He plays hard to get with everything.
"Yes?" I finally asked.
He just blinked.
"I don't know," he said, "I guess I'm just watching."
"Watching me knit?"
"Yeah…I don't know." He shrugged and left.
I loved him. He never asked how things worked. He would just find out himself. He would watch over and over again how people do things, and finally he would be bale to do it right the first time. But if he tried the first time without watching someone or getting a spoken explanation he couldn't do it. And if he got caught watching he wouldn't watch and try it ever again. Which is why he was bad at school.
All my children had somebody. But Ron just seemed to have himself.
And there he was again. He had returned to the living room and was staring out the window. It was raining. Ever since Ron was a baby he had an obsession with rain and storms. He could watch storms for as long as they lasted. He could watch rain for as long as it fell.
And I let him. I didn't think it was strange or weird.
I watched as he slowly turned to me. I smiled. He didn't smile.
Ever since the war was over, Ron never smiled. He barely talked.
Everyone knows that Ron was kidnapped by Death Eaters before the war started and was tortured until he told something. No one knows what and Ron never brought it up. But I figured it was really bad. It must have been.
But now his smiles were treats. If he smiled at you, you must be lucky. And if he laughed it was shocking. But he hasn't smiled and he hasn't laughed for the longest time.
He had turned into somewhat of a punk. Bill sent him clothes. I hated that. But Ron loved the clothes. Long, baggy pants and loose shirts. All dark. He had dyed the tips of his hair black and got a piercing on his left ear.
He always looked depressed. But his new look was somewhat of a security blanket for him. So I let him dress and act that way.
Ginny hated the new Ron. She couldn't stand him. But I knew deep down that Ron and Ginny still shared a relationship.
I wiped away a stray tear that fell from my eye. I hated thinking about Ron, but it was comforting to know that I knew my children so well.
Ron was such a mysterious child. The only things I knew about him were his learning styles and his obsession with storms and rain.
But sometimes he could control his feelings and sometimes he couldn't. So we never knew what he was feeling. And he never expressed himself well before.
"Mum?" he asked suddenly, not tearing away from the window.
"Yes, Dear?" I replied.
He looked over at me, then turned back to the window.
"Nothing," he answered.
I sighed quietly. I always wondered what Ron was up to. Always. He was so quiet I never knew where he was.
But maybe that's the way he wanted it.
I set down my knitting and walked up behind him. Slowly I gave him a hug. He turned around and looked at me.
Then he smiled.