Author's note: When I first uploaded the document, I was able to do the "inverted text" effect (you'll see where that comes in). Unfortunately this didn't carry over, but I'm keeping it this way for now anyway.)
29 June 2004
Dear Hermione,
Happy anniversary! Not really, but you'll see what I mean. As you've gathered, last night was our first wedding anniversary. (Thanks very much for your present.)
You're still asleep and I can't get back to sleep, so I'm up here writing to you. More Auror work today, so maybe I'll cut this short...
I love you. You know that, thankfully, and this doesn't belong in a will or anything really. When I was a kid I was never used to having things of my own, and now that we're here, we've shared everything for so long, everything that matters. The good memories and the bad ones.
Actually. If I've snuffed it and Harry's still around, you'd better make sure he has my Deluminator. He'll probably need it.
You're waking up now so I'll finish this later.
Still 29 June 2004
I don't know what I'm trying to say.
I guess I've sort of been a coward about all this. I mean, it took me far too long to work out that I fancied you, back at Hogwarts. Although even if I'd pieced it together earlier that doesn't mean you would've done the same, so maybe it all worked out.
I was, as you know, absolutely mental. More than once, I'm sure, but I'm really remembering running off on you and Harry when we were hunting for Horcruxes. If anything had happened to me—to either of us—and I'd never gotten around to really spelling things out...
Well, anyway, I was lucky. We all were.
But then you went back to school, I worked with Kingsley and them trying to tidy up some of the loose ends, and still we never really talked. Not that the snogging wasn't brilliant. Still is. But I still had trouble imagining what the future would be—not because we didn't have one, but because we did.
When I was working with George it was easy to just take things one day at a time. After all, I don't think I was in any mortal danger from his products (I'm not entirely convinced about the Torturous Toffees, but after a month or two the swelling was gone, so it's all fine now). But now that I'm an Auror...I guess I don't want to die and leave you wondering how I feel. Although it's a bit late for that now. Seeing as we're married and all.
Anyway, please know, with all my heart, I love you. I think you do know. You'd be better at saying it, anyway.
8 July 2005
Dear Hermione,
I feel sick. Don't beat yourself up about it if you're reading this, granted. I'm sort of glad you showed me those Muggle pictures, just because I need the reminder sometimes. Muggles aren't all innocent little Puffskeins that us grown-up Aurors need to look after. When we say they're our equals...they can be just as evil, too.
I'm glad I know you. I'm glad I know what's going on in the Muggle world, that you follow it and care about it because you can't not follow and care about it.
So, if I'm dead and you're reading this, that's probably a good thing that you're still calm enough to read instead of busting down the door to find the scumbag who did me in. Please, please don't...
All right, I have to leave you room to change. If you want to marry again, as much as the idea turns my stomach right now, I won't be around to stop you.
And I can't say that you shouldn't go after whoever did it, because I'm sure you've got brains enough to deal with whoever if you want to.
But don't go off the deep end. If I'm killed by a Muggle automobile, don't swear off Muggle technologies. If I fall off my broom and die, don't tell our nieces and nephews they can't ever play Quidditch. If I get poisoned by Percy's so-called biscuits, you are allowed (and ordered) to slap him one from me, but don't be afraid to go to Weasley parties. I didn't set out to live a life of danger but I've kind of stumbled into one, and whatever happens to me, I don't want you to lose the light in your eyes and the love you have, not just for me, but for everyone. Please don't lose who you are.
If not, I'll find a way to haunt you. See if I don't.
Love,
Ron
14 May 2006
Hermione—
I take back what I said last year. Should I snuff it any time in the next few...years, I presume. Bloody hell, did we talk about having more than one kid? Anyway please remarry. Not because you've found some charmer or whoever. Actually I wouldn't mind if he had the personality of a dishrag. Just because you're going to need an extra body to look after Rose without running yourself ragged. Or you could quit your job at the Ministry, I'm sure you have enough sway as a war hero to hire a...all right, not an elf.
But seriously, do something. Hear that? She's awake again. Gotta run.
22 November 2006
Hermione—
I'm enclosing and dating this "flattering" photo you took with your silly Muggle camera of my bed hair.
Should anything happen to me in the next few years, to the point that Rose doesn't remember me, I want you to show her this photograph and tell her "even if you don't feel like you knew him, he knew you even with your distinct lack of personality, look how he got up at all hours of the night for you."
Then you can regale her with stories of my brave war heroism and suchlike.
Love,
Ron
eggs
milk
Cleaning Potions
bread if cheap
fish
fish...sauce...? ask H
sparkling water
GNOME REPELLENT
3 January 2010
Oi, Hermione, look what I found! See I'm so...humble I don't even worry about leaving my heartfelt letters to you in somewhere important. Congratulate me.
Or don't, seeing as I'll probably be dead by the time you read this.
I'm going to thank Harry again before I forget, but you'd better do the same. Things have been brilliant since he took over as head of the Auror office. Paperwork's no fun, but I don't have to risk life and/or limb that much. So give him my thanks that probably, you won't have to read this for a while.
Or you will because I've gone and done something really humiliating.
I've written a lot, pretty morbid—I can't believe I'm not thirty yet for all this. (No hard feelings, dear. You're still very attractive.)
Love,
Ron
15 March 2012
Dear Hermione,
I asked you today what it was like to do magic for the first time. You told me that you'd done it as a child several times without knowing it, but you didn't really understand what you'd done (which annoyed you. I tried to hold my laughter.)
Then you said you read all you could about magic, once you found out what you were (again, I tried to control myself). And that it took you so long to find a wand you began really worrying that they'd got it all wrong. But they hadn't, of course, and once you were able to cast spells you were so thrilled. I do remember those days.
You asked why I brought it up, and I told you I was just thinking about Molly. How we shouldn't take magic for granted. Which I was.
So, if you're reading this, go on and cast a spell. Some easy thing, but at least magic. Because no matter what you're going through, you shouldn't take it for granted. There was a time when you didn't have me to look forward to, but you did have that. Don't forget about it.
Yours always,
Ron
27 August 2013
Ugh, Hermione, you—
We're having a bit of a row. I'm in the bedroom and—
If you're reading this—
Forget it.
2 September 2013
Sorry about all that.
You won the row, of course, you always do. Hugo's just started at Muggle school again with Rose. And he's missing his tooth. Here, have another picture.
I know, I know, since we started Rose at school we should do the same for Hugo. You want them to get a little taste of the Muggle world you grew up in. (But honestly, a tooth fairy? I'm going to introduce them to some real fairies, make sure they know that they're not cute.)
It's just that once they start at Hogwarts we'll see so little of them and I want to see more of them when I can. You know that, I said this all to you the other day when we were rowing. But now...if you're reading this you'll see I was right, wasn't I? We grow up too quickly.
I just broke it off then because I figured you wouldn't want to be reminded of the fights.
Sorry.
I love you.
1 September 2019
Dear Hermione,
I can't believe how empty the house feels without Rose and Hugo. (I also can't believe it's the same day of the week every year. Look into that.)
Anyway, I'm about to ask you to go play chess, where by chess is meant something other than chess that you actually stand a chance of beating me at and will agree to play with me. I just figured I'd add to this now that I'm feeling old. Again.
Love you,
Ron
(Still 1 September 2019 but now much later in the evening: well, despite the fact that you're a complete cheat, that was a very fun evening. I hope by now that if we ever play Scribble or whatever you call it again, we're allowed to play wizard words too. It's only fair.)
pıɹƃɐɥ llǝʇ
˙ǝpıɹd ʎlɹǝɥʇɐɟ ʎɯ uı ploɥ ʇ,uplnoɔ ı ʇɐɥʇ ʍouʞ ʇsnɾ 'ʇı ʇnoqɐ ɹǝlʍoɥ ɐ noʎ puǝs oʇ uǝddɐɥ plnoɥs ǝuoʎuɐ ɟı ˙ǝɯ ɥʇıʍ ǝɟɐs ʎlqɐqoɹd ǝɹɐ sʇǝɹɔǝs ɹnoʎ 'ʎɹɹoʍ ʇ,uop ˙suoıʇɐlnʇɐɹƃuoɔ
'oƃnɥ ɹɐǝp
ᄅᄅ0ᄅ ɹǝqoʇɔo 6
Dear Hermione,
Right. Let's try this again with a new parchment, instead of an almost-full parchment that's rolled up and looks like it's new.
I'm hoping I've lived so long that the Puffskein debacle is a thing of the past. If not, please don't confront Hugo about this. He's going to have enough on his plate as it is.
...Rose and Hugo. If this is a pretty recent letter...sit down and pay attention to this. Because I know you're going to say you can do this but I'm not sure I trust you. You have to strike a balance between making sure you're there for them and not letting them try and keep things under wraps, and also taking time for yourself.
Get my siblings and the in-laws to help manage the kids, there are enough of them anyway. Don't ask my mum and dad for help, they'll be beside themselves.
Ugh, this is such a depressing thing. But time seems to get faster every year, don't you think?
I'm going to turn on the Quidditch now. Much love!
-Ron
29 April 2023
Dear Hermione,
Do you remember the day you came of age? Harry and I were up past midnight the night before practicing nonverbal charms and I tried to say "oh, it's Hermione's birthday" but I had been working so hard on not moving my mouth that nothing came out and he just looked at me funny.
Anyway I wished you proper congratulations the next day. It feels so fresh in my head still.
Can't believe Rosie's seventeen.
-Ron
14 July 2024
Dear Hermione,
Here's a picture of us and Hugo with your dad. Poor fellow, he really isn't used to these wizarding photographs, is he? Right now he's just standing stock-still.
Anyway, he looks in a right state, but we had a really pleasant day today. Mostly just sitting around and talking, I suppose Hugo was bored. He'll live.
He's doing pretty well, considering. (Your dad. Not Hugo.) Hopefully you will too.
Anyway, love you.
-Ron
25 August 2025
Hullo, Hermione,
I'm not going to sit here and tell you to retire now that I'm dead—work might be a good thing for you to keep busy with—but you ought to travel and see the world now that you don't have the kids at home. Ugh, looking through these past letters I'm so relieved that they're out of school. Not that I'm any more excited about the prospect of my death, and all that, but...you know what I mean.
Actually, here's a better idea, you throw yourself into work now when you're reading this, and in the now I'm writing this I'm going to ask you to travel with me right now when I'm still alive!
28 November 2033
Right. Hermione.
I'm taking a pause right now from looking at all my own rubbish. You were right three decades ago, it's time for me to sell off my Marvin Miggs back issues.
Hopefully I've had a good long while to collect a bunch more rubbish. If I'm dead and you're alive, sell it off. Don't worry about getting too good a price, just get rid of it.
Then sell the house if you can. I don't want Rose and Hugo to be jinxing each other over what to do with the house once we've both snuffed it.
I miss Mum and Dad even more now they've left us to deal with the Burrow.
Curse this.
Yours,
Ron
1 January 2071
Hermione,
You asked me the other night to sign the thank-you letters you were writing to the Muggles and send them out, and I said I'd do it. I hadn't exactly but I was tired. Anyway I finally remembered today!
But then I remembered they were Muggles and I had to address them myself, and I didn't know their addresses, so I did an "Accio Letters to Hermione!"
And this came up.
One Ink-Replenishing Charm later (found it in your spell books. Those are brilliant, and no, it did not take me all this time to realize it), and I got to reread some of those. Merlin's beard, we really did get lucky more than once, didn't we? After Voldemort fell, that was one thing, but even then...
I guess I should just get rid of it but honestly, we're still in love, and if I died (I assume) you'd still miss me, so I'll hold onto it just to remind you that at least you don't have to worry about the same details now.
Love,
Ron
P. S. And if I keel over now you'll know at least I got that Muggle post addressed.
P. P. S. If I outlive you I'm buying a new owl. This one is just around for sentimental value, I think.
P. P. P. S. Although if I outlive you you won't read this anyway.
1 January 2072
Happy New Year, Hermione! We tried to sleep in and get up at civilized hours but the Muggles nearby would have none of that. (I'm grateful George never sold his fireworks to any of them, their own are noisy enough as it is.) I love Muggles, of course, but every once in a while I wish some of them would pack up and move to the moon like you keep quoting from the papers about.
Anyway, I'm up before you again, so I get to use the line about "it seems like the years go so quickly now that we're this old" before you do.
...Ha, it's just gone one in the afternoon and you've already used the line. You are really rather predictable. Now if you're reading this and I'm not around to laugh at you you ought to take up some other hobby that will shake you up.
Love you,
Ron
1 January 2073
Dear Hermione,
Well, I've done it. I've outlived that waste of an owl. I hope I don't make as useless an invalid as it did, although that would be one surefire way to lose any fear of whatever's beyond the proverbial.
...although, come to think of it, I sure can't play Quidditch anymore. Little Evelyn can beat me at chess now and then (although she's got your brains, really, and Mark's patience, so maybe that's no surprise). I wouldn't be too hopeful for the world's future if it was my reflexes needed to track down dark wizards, and after so many decades of paperwork I'm sure I'd manage to "forget" my reading glasses if that's what I was called upon for.
But you still make me feel wanted, so thanks for that, I suppose.
Thanks for everything.
Love,
Ron
1 January 2074
Dear Hermione,
It's going to be anticlimatic if one year I can't think of anything profound to say and then die and leave you on that note.
Hopefully you'd have made better memories of me during the year, at least.
Love,
Ron