A/N: Thank you IceAngel89 for your review! Here's the next chapter.
Chapter Two: The Weaslys loss
Ron suddenly woke up disoriented and confused. He just had a very odd, and not to mention disturbing, dream. He had dreamed that he had been sitting in the pig pen with his pigs; just sitting there when his house had decided to just get up and leave. Ron had sat there staring at it walk away, but his house had not gone even six yards before crumbling to pieces.
"Blimey," he muttered, slowly sitting up.
The ghoul in the attic was mournfully howling again, and Ron was getting tired of it.
"Shut it, will you?" he yelled, throwing his glass at the ceiling. He watched as it shattered into a million pieces, hitting the floor.
He reached for his wand the bedside table and pointed toward the glass, muttering, "Reparo." The glass looked good as new.
He knew he wouldn't get into trouble for doing magic out side of school anymore; he was of age finally and in two days time he was going to travel to the Ministry of Magic to take his apparation test. He didn't know how he was supposed to pass it with out never having tried it before.
Just do your best, his mother had told him.
But mum, how do I even know what I'm supposed to do? he had complained.
Oh, you'll know.
Yeah, right Ron thought as he laid back down and tried to get comfortable, but within a few minutes, or so it seemed to Ron, his mother was pulling the covers off of him demanding that he get up.
"Mum, it's not even light out yet," he muttered.
"That's because you're eyes are closed, Ronald," she cheerfully said.
Ron groaned, "I don't want to get up! Why can't I sleep a little longer?" he asked.
"Because if I let you sleep a little longer each time you asked," she said, opening his curtains, allowing sunlight to spill into the room, "You'd be sleeping all day."
She has a fair point, Hermione's voice rang through his head.
Ron suddenly jumped up, "What?" he asked out loud.
"I'm sorry, dear, what did you say?" Molly asked.
"Did you…did you say something?" he asked, looking at his mother.
"Oh, I was just saying that you'd be in bed all day if I let you…"
He cut her off, "No, I mean…" he let his sentence trail off.
Great, he thought, Now I'm hearing voices. Brilliant,
"Hurry up, dear! Fred and George are paying a visit today!" she said, busying herself about his room until he finally got up.
"Really mum?" he sarcastically asked, "I had no idea! You've only been saying that about twenty times a day since you found out three weeks ago," he finished.
"Oh Ron, you have got your father's sense of humor," she laughed.
Ron stared after her and waited until she was down the stairs and out of sight before saying, "It wasn't supposed to be funny,"
Later, during breakfast when it was only Bill, Arthur, Ginny, Molly and Ron sitting around the table, Hedwig flew in through the window and sat herself down on the chair Charlie would have usually sat in if he were there.
He quickly untied the letter from its leg and was about to unroll it when Mrs. Weasly made an unnecessarily loud, throaty noise.
He looked at her, then set the letter down by his bowl, "Oh…right. No reading at the table," he muttered, then stared moodily down at his porridge.
Bill cleared his throat, "Well, mum…this is really good…er…porridge," he said, trying to fill the silence.
"Why thank you, darling. Ginny helped too, you know," she generously said.
"Yeah, you did a great job, Gin," he said, his mouth half full.
Ginny turned a pale shade of red before muttering, "Thanks."
She never often got congratulations from anybody, much less family. Everyone had done everything before her, so when she did it, even if it was better, it didn't really matter. Ron knew exactly how she felt. He had been there at one point in his life as well.
"Really good, Ginny," Ron muttered, still looking at it.
"How would you know?" she suddenly snapped.
Ron looked up in surprise and saw Bill staring at her. Mr. Weasly was discreetly looking at her from behind the paper and Mrs. Weasly pretended she didn't even hear her.
"What?" Ron asked.
"How would you know if it was good or not?" she asked again, "You haven't even tried it!"
"Blood hell, Ginny! It's nothing to get upset about!" Ron said in astonishment.
To his shock a tear made its way down her cheek, "You never mean anything you say, Ronald!" she yelled, standing up.
"I do too!" he said back, also standing up.
Mr. Weasly didn't bother using the paper anymore. He had slowly set it down and was watching his two youngest children bicker. Mrs. Weasly had gone off to the kitchen muttering something about leaving the stove on.
"Do not!" she yelled as Bill quietly tried to persuade her to sit down.
"Why wouldn't I?" Ron angrily asked, starting to get irritated.
"Because!" she said, her lip trembling. Arguments like this were not uncommon in the Weasly house now days. Even though Fudge had confessed that Sirius was innocent and that Voldemort really was on the loose, things had been tense in their house. Mr. Weasly had enough stress at work as it was, having to deal with Malfoy. Mrs. Weasly was always having to deal with Ginny and Ron's bickering, although Bill never got involved in anything. He felt that even though luck was at an all-time low, even for them, it was best to keep the peace. Both parents were still trying to adjust to Percy's absence. He was still convinced that Harry was a raving lunatic and that Voldemort was dead. Worst of all, he hadn't attended Charlie's funeral. Charlie had died fighting Voldemort himself. No one knew how, or even why, but they had had an encounter some where in Romania and Charlie had first been beaten to shreds by several different curses, but had died valiantly fighting Lord Voldemort.
"Ginny," Ron sighed, not wanting to fight, "We've all had a hard time, alright?" he said, trying to comfort her.
She was actually crying now, "I want Charlie back!" she suddenly wailed as Bill stood up. She leaned into him as he held her.
"Bring her upstairs," Mrs. Weasly quietly told him, a pained expression set on her face.
Bill nodded and carried her up the stairs like he had every previous day of the summer.
Ron sat down, suddenly sick to his stomach. Every time Ginny cried like that…every time she made him remember…he never felt right for the rest of the day.
He glanced at the rolled up piece of parchment lying next to his porridge bowl, but didn't move to touch it.
"Are you alright, Ron dear?" Mrs. Weasly asked.
He looked up at her, "Yeah, why?" he asked in a high-pitched voice.
She looked concerned, "You're very pale, darling, why don't you go lie down?" she asked.
Ron slowly nodded, picking up the letter and dragging himself up the stairs to his room.
