Righto, I really wanted to make it better, but this was kinda rushed, and then I stopped working on it(my motivation comes and goes)but I felt bad cuz I had a cliffy, so I decided to just post this little bit. Definitely not as good as it could be. Just think of it as an intermission, an introspection, etc etc. More will come I swear.

But this IS a bit of a turning point... right? ;; eh... enjoy.

PS-OOC > and slight impossibilities... but come on, Ron's a good guy. He deserves some recognition.

Chapter 11

Ronald Weasley had always been proud of his strategy skills. The twins had creativity and defiance, but Ron had the calculating mind. Even as a toddler, he was the only one out of all of his brothers who could make Ginny stop crying in half an hour with the use of a rubber duck.

"Don't cry, Gin. Look, here's a ducky. Do you like the ducky? I like the ducky too. You know what? I think ducky wants a swim. Let's go find her a pond. You can take care of ducky right?" he handed the toy over, and the sniffling girl took it in her arms protectively, "Yup, I knew you could. Now for a place to swim. How about the tub?" At this, Bill and Charlie promptly rushed up the stairs to turn the water on. "We can give her some bubbles to play with. I bet she likes taking baths as much as you do. Let's go take a bath with ducky." A pained wail. "What's wrong, Gin? Your knee still hurts? Don't worry, Percy can carry you. Oh what was that? I think ducky says she wants to kiss it better. Look, smooch! There, all better!" A giggle as Percy piggy-backed her sister up the stairs.

After the bath, Ginny sat quietly with a picture book charmed by Bill to read on its own, and THAT was when Charlie finally had a non-moving target for casting a healing spell.

"I don't know how you come up with these ideas," a pink and blue striped Fred (having been turned several different colors by George in an attempt to stop Ginny's crying) patted him on the head, "but you were great, Ronnie-kins." His other brothers agreed.

Ron had the potential. If he set his heart to it (which he rarely did), he could remember anything with perfect clarity and plan the future accordingly.

He remembered the first time meeting Draco. He hadn't been very keen on the new boy in his room, but how could he? He was just a child after all, it was sleepy time and the blizzard howling outside was making the house sway. Despite that, Ron remembered quite clearly a ghostly white figure and a pair of shining wide eyes scared of everything. After a few moments of silent observation, he made room on his bed and offered the other half to the new boy, who dove into the covers in an instant, shivering all the while.

"Don't worry," Ron had said with childish confidence, "the house never falls down. It just likes to dance with the wind. Mum told me."

The new boy nodded and Ron snuggled deeper into his blankets.

"G'Night."

A pause, then a timid whisper, "g'night."

And that was the first time Ron met Draco.

Soon after, Draco was moved to the twins' bedroom (because it was bigger), and for a while Ron felt a little betrayed. He had hoped that they could team up against the twins, but instead, Draco had joined them. A few years passed, and gradually Ron came to accept the fact that Draco was more like the twins than himself. He didn't mind, after all, they were all brothers to him.

However, despite their same age, Ron felt a distance between him and his foster-brother. They simply had nothing in common. Draco was the one secretlyscheming with the twins on their everyday pranks while Ron was the one helping Mum out with the chores. Draco was the one obsessed with Dad's muggle gadgets while Ron was only mildly fascinated. They had no common ground until one night, when Mr. Weasley pulled a beaten wooden box out of his bag.

"Ronald, I have something for you," he smiled.

Nine pairs of curious eyes, including Mrs. Weasley's, watched expectantly as Mr. Weasley removed the lid, gingerly lifting out a board with checkered squares and a bag. "Now Ron, do you know what—"

"CHESS!" Ron screamed before Mr. Weasley could finish the question. He took the bag and up-ended it quickly. Pieces of roughly cut wood fell out, and he squealed with excitement, jumping up and down and into Mr. Weasley's arms. "Thanks Dad you're the BEST!"

"Well," his dad smiled again, "I know you've been eyeing that chess set in Diagon Alley for a while, and a few days ago Hogans was telling us about his house cleaning. It turns out he happened to have an old set of chess board and pieces so he sold it to me."

Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes, "and how much did it cost?"

He gave her a kiss on the cheeks, "don't worry about that, Honey. The kids deserve a gift once in a while."

With another scream of excitement, Ron gathered the pieces and the board quickly. He thanked his dad again and rushed to the family room with his brothers and sister.

Needless to say, Ron became very good at the game, very fast.

Soon, no one wanted to play with him anymore. No one with the exception of Draco. No matter how badly he lost (and Ron knew it smarts from the look on the blonde's face), Draco would always come back for another game. Always.

"What do you want, Ron?"

Ron stared into his brother's face and saw a wall of steel. He shivered. "What, um, what did Mum say?"

Gray eyes narrowed, "that's none of your concern."

Without a backwards glance, Draco turned and walked down the hallway to the Slytherin common room, Harry beside him.

Ron stared at their disappearing figures and felt a hollow pain in his chest. Distantly, he noticed Fred's hand on his shoulder and George saying something sympathetic, but he didn't show any signs of acknowledgement. The twins sighed and retreated into the dining hall.

Ron stood there for a long time. He kept staring at the hallway leading to Slytherin, to his enemy, to his brother. His eyes started watering (from the strain, he told himself), but he didn't blink. All he could do was to stare on, thinking about the chess games.

He really, really missed those chess games.

tbc!