A/N : This is kind a contribution to fanficsunderthestairs 1,000 followers celebration challenge on Tumblr.
I took the prompt 3. Ron asks his father for advice.
I obviously was inspired by a lot of things when I wrote this.
23. Advice
Ron watches the Burrow from afar, nostalgia of his childhood summers hitting him with a force he didn't expect.
The sun is setting and the air is warm as he gazes over the yellow burnt grass patches that are all over the land. He doesn't know if it's because he has so many conflicting thoughts and emotions at the moment, but he suddenly feels the urge to run down the hill barefoot, arms open and forget about thinking.
He sees a flicker of light in the shed, and knows he has come to the right place.
When he enters, his father is disassembling an iPhone it seems, and it makes Ron smiles. His father never really stopped being fond of Muggle technology. He still asks Hermione and the kids a million questions every time he sees them.
Hermione.
Ron is brought back to the purpose of his visit.
"Hi dad."
"Ron! Good you're here, I've been trying to figure out what the purpose of this thing is."
Ron shifts his weight from one foot to another, he is suddenly nervous. What if his dad doesn't understand? What if he doesn't have an answer?
"It's a phone, but it also does all sorts of-"
"A phone! But where are the buttons?"
"It's a touchscreen."
His father looks perplexed, but then something shift in his eyes. He looks taken back, like he just realised something.
"What are you doing here at this time of day son?"
Ron sighs, he may as well take the advice he's came to look for, whether it is good or bad.
He tries to collect his thoughts first. Ron has tried to find a way to express his worries for a while now, but words were never really his thing. He's gotten better at it, much better, but he still struggles. His father stares at him patiently, trying to hide his worry.
"I don't know how to say this."
"Start at the beginning."
"Okay," Ron takes a deep breath. "When Ginny was the last one to go to Hogwarts, how was it for you and mum?"
"Well, we didn't had much time to dwell on it, if you can recall, the Wizarding World was a bit of a mess. Ginny's first year didn't really end the best of ways."
Ron lets out a frustrated cry. "Yeah, I know I remember. That's not what I'm talking about. I mean, how was it at the house, with just you and mum, and no kids around?"
And just like that, his father figures out the heart of his problem.
"Are you worried about you and Hermione once both Rose and Hugo have gone off to Hogwarts?"
Ron shrugs his shoulders, suddenly unable to look into his father's eyes. His throat is dry but he doesn't realise it until he replies and his voice is hoarse. "Well, Hugo is off for his first year in a couple of month. What then? I mean, the last few years have been rough," his father gives him a look he knows too well. "You know they have. It's always been a bit insane between us." He pauses, scratching his head uncomfortably. "Since we've had the kids, our insanely brilliant kids, it's really been more about them than about us."
Ron laughs absentmindedly, trying to recall the last time Hermione and him had simply gone out to dinner, just the two of them.
He can't remember.
"Have you talked to Hermione about it?"
His dad could have made a comment about how hard it was to manage seven kids and two wars, but he didn't, and it hits Ron how humble his father is. Tears fill his eyes and he angrily wants to push them back inside. He is a mess.
"She's been busy, you know. Her work is very demanding, what she's doing is important to her and the greater good. We all know that. It's just..." He sounds bitter, and he doesn't want to be, because he is so proud of her. But there's a part of him that hates her job.
They've been fighting a lot lately -more than usual- and he's been afraid of what the house will be like once it'll just be the two of them.
Will they be strangers?
"You and Hermione love each other," his father assures him as he lays a hand on his shoulder, forcing Ron to look at him.
"I know!" Ron half cries, "but what if this is too much for us?"
His father breathes deeply and gestures for Ron to sit on an armchair in the corner of the room. He then proceeds to turn the kettle on and prepare tea for the two of them. As he does so, they both remain silent. Ron lost in his own thoughts, and Arthur trying to gather his.
"Your mother hated it," his father finally tells him as he hands Ron his tea. "I guess you're more like her than you'd thought. She disliked the silence more than anything. She'd fuss around the house and pick up a fight with me as soon as I got home. It wasn't pretty. And I won't lie to you, there's time I thought that maybe we wouldn't make it."
Ron almost chokes on his tea.
"You and mum?"
His father nods. "We'd known each other nearly all our lives and life evolved around you kids for so long that once you were all gone, we had to figure out each other again. Because you change. People change."
"What did you do?"
"One day I watched her hum one of those Celestina Warbeck songs that she likes as she was knitting and I fell in love with her all over again."
Ron nods slightly. His mind wander to a few days earlier, when he caught Hermione reading the journal at breakfast and the light caught her hair perfectly, he had felt his heart race in his chest at the sight.
"I don't really know how to explain it," his father continues. "But I do know Hermione and you have been through a lot, more than most people have. It's a strength. Remember it."
They both turn quiet as they finish their teas. Ron attempts to collect his thoughts.
He remembers that he had hated her, when they first met. He then recalls their fourth year and how he couldn't tell jealousy and anger apart. He closes his eyes and lowers his head between his hands. The Horcruxes hunt is one of his worst memories, the constant fear; the dark thoughts the locket brought; the resentment and hatred he felt the day he left; Hermione's screams as Bellatrix tortured her. It still gives him cold sweat.
His father is right, they've been through a lot. Good and bad. He pictures Hermione at the end of her seventh year, wearing the biggest smile and the pride he felt surge in his heart when he had seen her that day. Without warning, he is invaded by more vivid images of good things they've shared. Milestones and insignificant Sundays spent in bed on a rainy day. It's almost too much.
He needs to talk to her. And figure this out. What they have is too special to throw it all away.
His tea has gone cold but he doesn't care. Ron bolts up, hugs his father and thanks him.
"One more thing son," his father adds, amusement dancing in his eyes, as Ron passes the door of the shed. "Perks of having the kids away, you have the house to yourselves and you don't need a silencing charm."
