And Ampersand
Molly Weasley's youngest son clattered downstairs and into the kitchen, clutching a stack of dirty plates and a mug.
"Right, that's all of it," he huffed, dumping the crockery in the sink and twisting the tap on.
"That's half the kitchen you've had squirreled away up there," Molly grumbled. Ron was almost as slobby as Charlie had been as a teenager, hoarding plates and glasses in his bedroom for weeks.
"I know, I know," Ron mumbled, hastily scrubbing the toast crumbs and solidified butter off the plates.
"Tonks and Kinglsey are coming home with your father after work so we're going to need those extra plates to-"
"Mum, I know what you're trying to do," said Ron, glancing round to pin her with a look, which was rather shrewder than his usual expression.
Molly wasn't sure what he meant and replied in what she hoped was a cool tone, "And what is it I'm trying to do?"
"Come on. It's obvious,"
"If it's so obvious then spit it out,"
"You're trying to set Bill up with Tonks, and it isn't going to work so why don't you drop it?"
Molly stared at him. What was he talking about? "Where did you possibly get that idea?"
"You keep inviting her over. It's pretty blatant," Ron informed her, with the pitying superiority only displayed by sixteen-year-olds, "Bill's not interested so you might as well stop dangling Tonks in front of his nose and accept that he's going to marry Fleur,"
Anger flared in Molly. What kind of assumptions was he coming up with and why in Merlin's name did he think that?
"Listen to me, Ron," she ordered, "I have no intention of setting Bill up with Tonks. I don't know where you got the impression that that's why I've been inviting her over, but you need to forget it. Understand?"
Ron balked in the perplexed way he often did when Molly snapped at him. Then he stammered, "So- so why do you keep having her over? I mean, she's nice and everything but she's a bit of a downer at the moment,"
"And don't you think that's why?" Molly demanded, "Don't you think that given she's having a tough time she could do with some support?"
He's a sweet boy but emotional intelligence has never been his strong point. He's put two and two together and made seventeen.
"Oh," Ron murmured. He looked as if he was going to say something else, then shut his mouth.
"You might want to consider this a bit more sensitively before you start gossiping," Molly informed him.
"I do not gossip," Ron protested.
"It's time you stopped coming up with theories about who I'm trying to set up with whom, and showing a bit more sensitivity,"
Ron didn't say anything and turned back to his washing up. Molly watched him with a mild glare. Despite having raised five already, teenage boys were still a mystery. Molly was grateful that he had Hermione to keep him on his toes.
The back door clattered open and Bill strolled into the kitchen. Ron glanced round to check who it was and, seeing it was the person he'd just been discussing, fixed his eyes to the sink and started scrubbing his plates harder.
"Working like a house-elf there," Bill noted, "What's brought this on?"
"Mum," Ron muttered.
"Ah. Well, Harry and I have nearly finished de-gnoming outside so I'm taking Fleur on a walk into the village. Is she upstairs, Mum?"
Of course he wanted to go out with her; they spent all their time together. Bill was barely back from five years in Egypt, but it seemed he hadn't missed Molly half as much as she'd missed him.
"Mmm," Molly mumbled.
"Right, I'll find her then we'll be off. See you later," Bill announced. He leant over to ruffle Ron's hair and Ron elbowed him away. Bill chuckled and headed up the stairs.
"Make sure you're back for dinner," Molly called after him.
Bill leaned over the banister and told her, "I've got that Muggle money saved upstairs so I'm taking Fleur out to the chip shop,"
It took a great deal of integrity for Molly not to roll her eyes. "Kingsley and Tonks are coming over, I think they'd like to see you," she said pointedly.
"Come off it. They've got better things to do than chat to me," Bill scoffed, "Anyway, I told Fleur that if she's going to move here she's got to try a proper English fish and chips. We'll be back before it's dark. Bye,"
And he bounded upstairs. Molly glanced over at Ron, still splashing plates around in the sink. In most ways her eldest and youngest son were very different- Bill was more studious, Ron more hot-headed. Bill was musical whereas Ron was good at wordplay. Ron was on the Quidditch team, Bill had got a silver medal in a translation competition. Bill wouldn't have got muddled about who was falling in love with each other...but right now, the way he was so attached to Fleur and brushing off everybody else, he wasn't being much more emotionally intelligent than his littlest brother.
"See," Molly heard herself say, "As if he's got eyes for anybody but her,"
"Alright, I get it, that's what I said," Ron huffed.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you," Molly found herself snapping a lot these days. Everything that was going on and how in the line of fire their family were should have made her kinder and more patient with her children, but in reality she'd become tense and waspish.
Ron shoved the cleaned plates onto the drying rack. Molly saw him glance at her as if considering whether he should ask her to dry them by magic or if he should do it by hand.
"I'll do it," she told him, feeling guilty, "You go outside with Harry,"
"Thanks," Ron grinned, and bolted towards the back door. Happy to be getting away from her, like Bill had been. When he got to the door he turned back and added loudly, half-irritated and half-joking, "And for the record, we will not be gossiping!".
