Three Months
Two and a half months into their forced visit to a strange past, Ron spends a night turning over and over in his cot.
He can't sleep, it's just too uncomfortable, even with the softening charm he's secretly cast on the mattress. Or maybe he's just too tense.
Tomorrow he will be examined by the Leather Masters, to earn himself a spot in the unofficial guild of skilled craftsmen that create, maintain and fit to the dragons the various types of harnesses needed for service.
He hasn't been so nervous since OWLs.
He is confident in his ability: he has found it both easy and diverting to manipulate the leather and metal needed for the straps, rings, carabiner hooks and nets that secure the crew and hold bombs, gunpowder and supplies while the dragon flies.
In the ten weeks they've been here, he has learned every detail of each harness – the light duty harness, travelling harness and heavy combat harness – and even come up with a few betterments that have been highly appreciated by the ground crews he hangs out with.
He has tried his hand at other things too: bags and satchels and belts and purses and even a pair of gloves. It came out gnarled and a little misshapen, but a few quick swishes of his wand fixed it.
Magic lets him cut down on the time needed for many of the steps, which means he can practice more than the other apprentices and even experiment with his own ideas. People are amazed and impressed by how quickly he picks things up and while he faces some jealousy here and there, generally he's well-liked.
His best friends tease him gently about cheating, but Ron is only puzzled by their attitude: why should he not use his magic like this? For him, raised living and breathing it, it is rather their easiness in not using magic that is unnatural.
Magic is part of his life – a part of him – and he doesn't want to give it up, not even for a day.
Harry is thrilled when he announces his intention to be acknowledged as a Leather Master, if he can; Fortuna – a little grudgingly, because to his hidden amusement, the dragonet is a bit jealous of his friendship with Harry – takes him for a breathtaking celebratory flight, even if he protests (but not too much) that he hasn't gained his gloves yet.
Hermione for her part is shocked and a little disapproving. She doesn't voice it, she forces smiles and tries to be supportive, but she doesn't like it that he's settling in at the Covert for what seems like the long run.
Ron fights not to be hurt. They're trying to fit in, aren't they? Why shouldn't he do it in a way that makes him happy?
Truth be told, he is very proud of the role he's found for himself in this odd world they're unexpectedly trapped in. A leather worker is essential to any dragon crew: all aerial manoeuvres, even the simplest roll, would result in many of the men falling off the back of the dragon if the harness should fail. The safety of the crew in flight is his and his colleagues' responsibility: talk about important work.
He is, quite naturally, Fortuna's harness-tender already and the main supervisor of the fitting and rigging of her harnesses; but if the Leather Masters recognize him as one of them, he'll be able to officially head her ground crew, which will be better for Fortuna and thrilling for him. And will give him many more chances to fly: an important perk of the job in a world where Quidditch is not an option.
Giving up on sleep, he gets dressed and goes out, quietly so as not to disturb his room-mates. Harry and Hermione both rank a private room, but he is rather content with being in a dormitory. Reminds him of Hogwarts, truthfully. He misses Harry a little – the new captain is often too busy for more than a tired few minutes of chatting – but he's making friends with a bunch of other blokes, mostly men and boys from the various ground crews and a few junior flight crew members who like the local pub as much as he does.
Most of his evenings are good fun these days and he keeps happily busy. Being left here might have been a shock to his system at first, but all in all, he finds this world rather brilliant.
Life in the Covert has an active but casual rhythm he enjoys; unlike Hermione, he sees no reason to leave the place and go elsewhere nor can he understand why she would want everybody else, including the dragons, to do so.
There is a reason why dragons are housed in secluded spots away from most human habitation, after all: people are scared.
"It makes sense, doesn't it?" he tries to reason with her. "The general populace is terrified of dragons, whether they are feral, friendly, or part of a foreign military. Why expose them all to an unpleasant, forced cohabitation?"
Coming from the secrecy-oriented wizarding world, he can not see any advantage in the openness she preaches.
"Do you realize that most people in Britain can live their entire lives without meeting a dragon close up?" she asks, unexplainably indignant.
"Well, most people in our Britain can live their entire lives without meeting a witch or wizard, but that's rather for the best, isn't it?"
Hermione huffs and rants about aviators being looked upon as inferior to the other branches of the military and how unfair it is (though Ron has found out from his new friends that it's mostly because the special relation between aviator and dragon may preclude raising a family, a sad prospect in these times) and then she rants some more about the forced secrecy of female presence in the Corps and about the appalling standards of education and a number of other things.
He can only shrug and kiss her lightly.
He does not see that many problems with this enclosed society; truth be told, he feels right at home in it.