Standard disclaimers apply!
I do not own Harry Potter. I have nothing to do with Scholastic, Warner Bros or Bloomsbury. I'm not JKR and I am certainly not making any profit out of this.
Worth It
It'll be worth it in the end.
It'll be worth it in the end.
It'll be worth it in the end.
It'll be worth it in the end.
Keep telling yourself that and you'll believe it again.
He KNEW it would be worth it in the end, really. It just didn't feel like it at that particular moment.
This weekend had almost made it worse, he reflected. Not that he'd ever give it back –fuck no! He'd never give it back.
But he had to get himself together. He couldn't stand outside the Hogwarts gate all night, ten minutes had left his bollocks feeling like they were blue, and he wasn't about to turn up at The Burrow a blubbering mess.
Not with Harry, George and Charlie home.
He used the sleeve of his jumper to dry his eyes. It had been a fucking brilliant weekend.
*
"Alright?" Harry asked as Ron sat in front of the fire.
"Alright," Ron nodded and realised that it was true. At least he'd got extra time with Hermione. Harry, the poor sod, wouldn't see Ginny for weeks yet. "Up for a game?"
"Yeah, why not," Harry shrugged and reached to the bookcase to take down Ron's old chess set.
"Firewhiskey?" Charlie suggested, walking into the front room with George and shaking a bottle.
"Where are Molly and Arthur?" Harry asked.
"Gone for a walk in the orchard," Ron supplied, "they went after I got back."
"Very romantic," George sighed and clutched his heart.
*
"They've fallen asleep," Ron announced redundantly. Harry and Charlie were sprawled on the rug in front of the fire, both of them snoring loudly.
"Lightweights," George muttered, "how d'you think they'd look without eyebrows?"
"Wouldn't make much difference on Charlie," Ron snorted, "but Harry'd look ridiculous."
"Shall we?"
"Better not," Ron shook his head.
"You're no fun," George pulled an exaggerated pout.
"I don't want to accidentally cut their noses off," Ron held out his unsteady hand.
"Mum would have kittens," George agreed, "I'm not in such good shape myself."
"Think of the mess, too. She'd make us clean it up."
"What shall we do then?" George leaned forward expectantly.
"I don't know," Ron shrugged. "Talk or something?"
"What? Share our thought and feelings in a manly manner?" George scoffed.
"Why not? Could be good for a laugh."
Dreadful! I've had this sitting and waiting for days but totally forgot about it!