Part One
A/N: Alright... this is my first ever Ron/Ginny fic ever. I guess that I was an "implied/actual incest writing" virgin before this. I was messing around on last night at around one a.m. when I decided to read some R/G fics. And then I thought, "Hey, I think I'll write some of this."
Yes... that was the entire thought and creative process. I like the manga "Angel Santuary"... it'smore or lessthe same idea... Okay, not really, but whatever. It's my crazed thought process.
Any who: I'm not sure how long I'm going to make this. Not very long; no more than five parts, probably. If you could read/review, that'd be super fantastic.
Do you remember when we were little? We used to play house all the time; I the wife... you the husband... naturally. I'd have a pair of mom's shoes on, tripping around the garden, trying to make dinner before you got home.
You'd walk through the door, Dad's old hat on your head and tie around your neck.
A kiss on the cheek, then lend a helping hand. And we'd sit at the table and you talk about work and I'd tell you the latest bit of gossip Ms. Shelly, my stuffed unicorn, had passed on to me.
And you would look up from your empty plate and tell me it looked delicious. And I'd feel so proud and smile back. And I knew that when I grew up, I'd want my husband to be as great a boy as you.
God... I didn't think that someday it would be more literal than an innocent, harmless thought of a little girl who looked up to her big brother.
The years went by, and you decided that playing house wasn't the cool thing to do. You'd fly around the backyard with all my other brothers on your broomstick, smiling and laughing.
And I'd still be in the garden, having tea with a ratty Ms. Shelly. But after a while, her stories faded, until she stopped coming to visit one day.
But I'd always put a plate on that little table, just for you. Just in case you decided to come back, even if it was only for one day.
And I still hoped with all my heart that I could end up with a boy who treated me the way you did.
But when Fred and George went to school, we were best friends again. There were long afternoons of running through the woods, looking for fairies and birds.
You were the first to teach me how to ride a broom. And my heart swelled when you looked with pride and love as I held onto the rough wooden handle, not falling off, eyes wide open.
And on those warm evenings, we'd lay in the meadow beside the forest staring at the onyx sky dotted with white, hoping to see a shooting star at the same time. Another way to deepen our already unbreakable bond.
And I knew that you were my favorite brother.
I just wish you and I could have realized how deep our sibling love ran in our veins back then. Maybe it would have made everything easier.
And then you were gone, and I was left at the Burrow with no one to play with; no one to talk to. I wandered through the trees, reminiscing about the way we were.
The way you'd sit on the foot of my bed, both of us in our pajamas, playing a game of Exploding Snap until Mum yelled at us to go to sleep.
The way you'd wipe the tears away from my eyes when I fell off my broomstick.
The way you laughed at the garden gnomes that I managed to grab and dress up for our family.
I slept in your bed a lot; I'd creep up the stairs after Mum and Dad were asleep. In one of your shirts, I'd press my face in the pillow, it's familiar smell bringing back memories of when we were best friends with out a care in the world.
I walked the same paths we did. Always hoping that you would be just around the next corner. Knowing you never would be.
I knew that I needed you back then, too. But no one else did. No one was able to tell me what I was feeling. No one was able to explain if it was right or wrong.
And when you came home that first summer... I knew something had changed between us.