Summer 1991
Ronald Weasley
Ron's hands trembled slightly and his cheeks were flushed from the swirling pools of anticipation that danced around his stomach. He held the letter in the palms of both his hands, the red crest of Hogwarts glaring up at him with a seductive presence.
Ginny stood directly behind him and leaned over the back of the chair and rested her chin on his left shoulder. The rest of his family sat in their usual places around the table, the twins already began to discuss what exactly they needed before the school year began. Percy, Ron noticed, didn't open his letter and instead focused his eyes on the one in Ron's hand. Ron swallowed.
He broke the seal of the envelope with his thumb and pulled out the thin piece of parchment that had been folded inside. Carefully, as if he held the most delicate thing in the world, he turned the parchment over and scanned over the text. At that moment he felt like nothing could dampen his mood, his anxiety lifted, and his breathing felt light.
"Congratulations Ron!" Ginny squealed and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "I didn't think you were a squib!"
His mother glared at her. "Ginevra Weasley, there is nothing wrong with being a squib!"
Ron scrunched his nose, there would have been a lot wrong with him being a squib. It was one of his greatest fears in life, or it was before his vision. Sure he had done his fair share of accidental magic but that only did so much to calm him. The letter, signed by the Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, was physical proof that Ron was a wizard. It was also proof that he had the means to protect his family if only he tried hard enough. He let a relieved smile spread across his face.
Percy smiled back at him and Ron realised Percy had been worried about his reaction. Percy was probably right to be concerned, if he had been rejected, Ron shuddered, he would have gone entirely nuts. All things considered, he was probably a nutter anyway, but not as far as Percy knew. He had thought about telling him just how bad things were but what then? Azkaban.
Ron watched as Percy reached into his envelope and found a shiny red badge. He held it up for the entire table to see. Ron smiled harder, for some reason he felt an immense amount of pride that his brother was chosen to be a Prefect. For much of Ron's life he had never been particularly close to Percy but now he found himself spending more time with him then ever before.
Ron noticed both the twins give each other rather worried looks.
"Percy's a prefect!" Ginny squealed again. She raced from Ron to Percy and hugged him as well.
"Your brother is very sensible," their mum commented. "Congratulations Percy dear, me and your father are so proud of you."
A tiny shiver of jealousy raced through Ron's veins. He did his best to push it down inside himself. Why wouldn't they be proud of Percy? He shouldn't have been jealous, he loved Percy and he wanted him to have his moment. Sure, Ron wished he got more attention from his parents but that was hardly Percy's fault. He closed his eyes and tried to blink away the feeling.
"Percy the Prefect," said Fred.
"Percy the Perfect," George countered.
"Percy the Problem," they both agreed.
- SS -
Ron stood in the old shed where his father often tinkered with muggle toys. The shelves and tables were overrun with various muggle parts that seemed to have no specific rhyme or reason. Some had remained untouched for months or years, and thin layers of grime and dust settled in divots or cracks. Usually Ron enjoyed spending time with his father, but now he felt as if he had been slapped across the face.
His entire body pooled with a deep set shock, the kind that brought unwelcome tears to his eyes. He kept his mouth shut, teeth clenched, afraid that if he said anything then sobs or something worse would escape his lips.
"So, what do you think?" his father asked.
Ron said nothing and chose instead to just stare at the price of heinous wood that he had been handed. How can I save him with this? The thought leached into his skin, it burned him, dared him to say it out loud. He wished it was some cruel joke, a prank perhaps, but he knew it wasn't. In his hands was Charlie's old wand, a scratched and battered thing that had seen its fair share of Quidditch games. It looked dreadfully awful, a tuft of unicorn hair hung out the tip and hung sadly to the side. Charlie's wand, he clenched his hand around the thing, not my wand.
The shock set fires under his skin and burned anger into his chest. Why? The question nearly broke its way out of him. He could feel his neck turn red and he sucked in a short breath of air.
They bought Percy an owl, the realisation came to him with bitterness. Ten Galleons on a stupid bird, instead of a wand. His stomach churned. He hated the situation, he hated the jealousy, he hated their choice, and most of all he hated the poverty of it all. It's not fair, I didn't decide to be poor.
Ron opened his mouth, tried to say something, anything, and then shut it again. He blinked some of the moisture from his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks. The pride that he had seen glisten in his Father's eyes turned to confusion.
Ron turned away, he didn't say anything. He didn't stop when his father asked him to and not when Ginny asked him what was wrong when he entered the house. He marched up the stairs to his room and shut the door behind him. He turned the lock.
He imagined a green serpent wrapped around his throat, it danced on the edges of his eyes. He envisioned Charlie dying, and he heard the laughing of the masked men as he did so. It made Ron shudder.
They don't understand, he tried to rationalise. His parents didn't realise what had happened. He turned the wand over in his hands, it felt like a quill did, an object and nothing more.
"Gits!" He threw the wand at the wall and didn't care that it sparked briefly. He didn't care if it was broken. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Charlie would die and he had no way to stop it.
Ron reached under his bed and retrieved a small brown box. Six blue sleeping droughts stood in perfect order, the same as they had been since the healer had provided them. Ron unscrewed the lid of one of the vials and tipped it into his mouth. He considered taking another, he wanted to take another, but he knew he shouldn't. He threw himself on top of his bed and waited for the potion to claim him.
- SS -
He had no idea how much time had passed. Ron shook the tiredness out of his eyes. The shutters of his window were open, he hadn't bothered to close them, and a bright crescent moon hung limply in the sky. He pulled himself up and took a few deep breaths, he felt his stomach rumble lightly with hunger.
Ron was glad that his parents hadn't tried to wake him. Or at least, if they did try, that he hadn't heard. He wasn't sure he could trust himself not to say something he would regret and while he blamed them, he still loved them too. He was hurt, there was no doubt, but he didn't have to hurt them. It just wasn't right.
Ron bit his cheek and stopped himself from stumbling down that path again. There's time for crying later. I should have expected it.
Ron was used to being last. The last to get old used clothes, the last to get the good chores, and the last to be considered. He could count the number of new items he owned on a single hand, and most of them had not been gifts from his parents. So, he shouldn't have been surprised that they would give him a used wand too, but it hurt. It hurt him a lot. Not just because it made learning harder, that on its own he might have dealt with. No, it hurt because it meant he couldn't save Charlie.
Ron bit down on his lips, just hard enough to cause some pain. Pain that could distract from the ache in his chest.
I'm playing a game of chess, he thought. It was him against an opponent he had never met but it was a game nonetheless. The key to winning any game was both reading the opponent and using the right strategies. He needed a strategy, one that didn't involve a wand.
Ron pulled himself away from his bed and quietly snuck into the hallway. He listened for a moment and heard nothing except the moaning of the attic ghoul. Everyone had probably gone to bed, and that was fine by him. He took a few strides to the bathroom as quietly as possible.
He ran the warm water over his hands and splashed some into his face. His hair was frazzled from the poor way he had slept. The chin length locks stuck up at weird angles and seemed much more otherworldly than normal. He had a few clear indications around the bottom of his mouth where he had driven his teeth against his skin. He almost laughed at that. He looked like an idiot.
I'll start at Hogwarts, he thought and mouthed the words. It was almost as if mouthing them made them more real. At Hogwarts they would have to have more wands. Wouldn't they? He hoped so. He changed the tap to cold and sprayed some water on his face. No matter what happened, Hogwarts was the opening move.
Ron left the bathroom and snuck down the stairs into the kitchen. It was entirely empty as he expected. Still, there was a certain strangeness, as if it was brighter than it ought to have been. The moon seemed brighter than normal; it was a pale blue wash of light that coated the Burrow and the yard. Ron shook his head and dismissed the feeling, it was probably a side effect of the sleeping draught.
Ron hauled open the icebox and found some sausages. He placed them into a pan on the hob and ignited the magical flame. The smell floated and carried through the house.
Ron jumped when he heard the button stair squeak. "Ron?" A voice called.
Ron bit his lips again. "I'm just cooking," he mumbled.
"Are you alright?" He heard Percy ask. "You missed supper."
Ron grimaced, his parents hadn't told them. He was sure his father had to have known that he wasn't pleased. He had stormed away and locked himself inside his room, but yet they didn't tell his siblings? That made him feel uncomfortable, as if his reaction had been expected. And, he considered, they probably thought he would get over it. His eyebrow twitched.
"I'm fine," Ron answered Percy, a little sharper than intended.
The footsteps disappeared back up the stairs and Ron let out a relieved breath. He didn't want to air things out publicly, but knew he would end up doing so. He could feel the anger bubble beneath his skin again.
Something caught in the corner of Ron's eyes. Not something that he says regularly like the snake, but something else, something blue and something gold. He shifted his gaze to the window. The paddock was empty beyond the pane, the corn blew gently in the wind. He looked away again and blinked hard as a pain erupted in the back of his head.
Ron finished his sausages which seemed to only aggravate his headache. He slumped over the diving room table and rested his head in his arms while he tried to work up the courage to ascend the stairs. The pain was dull and achy, and reminded him almost of how he had felt after his accident. A small wave of anxiety splashed around in his chest.
What's wrong with me? Sweat pooled on Ron's forehead even though the Burrow was hardly warm. He made to stand up and fell backwards instead, both he and the chair turned upside down on the kitchen floor.
"Ron?" Percy yelled out again.
Don't you ever sleep? Ron hissed to himself.
"I'm fine," he called back.
Ron saw Charlie's eyes flash in front of his. It's not real.
He heard Percy come down over the stairs and step close enough to see him.
"You're laying on the floor."
Ron closed his eyes. His heartbeat pounded heavy in his ears. "Leave me alone."
"You're worrying me, Ron," his brother replied.
"Not enough," he said back bitterly. His rage had risen in his chest again. He heard a chorus of muffled laughter.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Percy asked.
Ron buried the palms of his hands into the sides of his head. Of course, he thought. His brother didn't even know what his owl had cost him. He couldn't blame him for that, not when he would have taken a gift from his parents without a second thought. After all, it was their job to keep things fair, wasn't it? It didn't seem very fair to Ron.
"You could have made this world a better place", a voice whispered in Ron's ear.
"And I will," another voice answered.
Ron's breath hitched. Was this another prophecy?
"Ron?" Percy said again.
"You didn't ask why I was in my room all day," Ron replied. He didn't know why he said that.
He listened closely and tried to find the voices again in the thumping of his heart. There was only silence.
"I'm sorry," Percy said. Ron could almost hear the frown on his face. "Why were you in your room?"
"Your owl," he replied automatically like someone else had taken control of his body.
No, stop. He fought with his mind and his anger. He didn't want to hurt Percy, he didn't have to know anything about this. It was between him and his parents. Yet the words were almost bursting out of his mouth.
"You got an owl and I didn't get a wand," he said. He regretted saying it and he hadn't meant to say it.
"I…" Percy's voice cracked. "I didn't know."
"It's not your fault," Ron hissed. "It's their fault. They shouldn't have done this to me. Don't they know what's at stake?"
No, they didn't. Ron tried to regain control of his emotions. Neither did Percy.
"I'm sorry," his brother answered. "It's not right, Ron. I'll talk to them, I'll have them take Hermes back."
"No," his voice was like ice. "They need to know what they did."
For a dark moment, he thought about letting Charlie die. Letting his parents suffer the loss of a child because of the way they had slighted him. He pushed those thoughts deep inside himself. Something was going on with him, he wasn't well. He loved Charlie, he wouldn't let him die. He felt like someone else had made those thoughts.
"You're trembling Ron," Percy pointed out. "It scares me, maybe I should go get mum. You need to take it easy."
"No!" Ron protested, that was the last thing he wanted.
"I'm tired," he managed to say. "I just need to sleep."
Ron managed to force himself back to his feet, his legs felt like jelly beneath him. He wasn't sure if Percy had seen him briefly wobble but if he had then he didn't mention it.
He made his way to the stairs and Percy followed after him, neither said another word. They parted at the landing for Percy's bedroom, Ron wanted to apologise but he couldn't think of how, instead he simply nodded and dragged himself onward. He just hoped he hadn't broken anything that couldn't be mended. He opened his bedroom door and closed it lightly behind him. He felt immediately exhausted, so exhausted that he didn't even reach for another sleeping draught. He didn't even recall laying down.
