The Fog

weasley-is-my-kingg:

Ron’s mind was fogged red with rage. All his darkest thoughts, every dirty lingering speck of a doubt was plaguing his mind.

They didn’t love him.

He was a burden.

He wasn’t really their friend.

They only pitied him.

They would rather be on their own than with his pathetic, poor se-

They were talking in the tent. It sound like it was important. They would be having an important discussion without him. Ron grabbed his deluminator from his pocket. He’d remind them of his existence.

But … the way they were looking at him. Their looks that made him feel small and weak. And he wasn’t!

The blind fog in his mind was quickly going from red to black.

Why were they so much better than him, then. He was just as good as them.

But those looks! Like they were wondering what he was even doing there.

Well he would just leave then. He had to get away from their looks, from their secret conversations. They didn’t want him anyway.

He was-

He was

The fog cleared.

Harry and Hermione… they loved him. And he loved them no matter how insecure he was or how stubborn they all were or when all three of them were being right foul gits.

Ron inhaled deeply and as he looked around his breath came out shallow and shuddering… Oh Merlin he’d left them. He could remember through the blackness of the fog, he could hear them. They had been trying to get him to stay. Had practically been begging him. He had heard her crying and he still left.

No … no he couldn’t do this to them. He had to get back.

But how.

His breathing became more and more laboured, whimpering as he finally took in his surroundings. His hands couldn’t clenching and unclenching, couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“I’m sorry. Merling please take me back. Take me back! I’m so so sorry. I need them!”

He sank to his knees in the dirt. His hands clenching and unclenching.

“I need them… and they need me.”

He would have stayed there in the ground miserable and worthless but then he heard something besides the rustling of leaves and the echo of bugs. It sounded like laughter. Like mocking maniacal laughter.

Waterloo, your choice

caroline-weasley:

Thank you so much nonnie!

Romione + Waterloo

Hermione
lay next to Ron on the blanket they had borrowed from Mrs. Weasley’s cupboard.
They had decided to get some alone time they would lay in the grass of the yard
and star gaze. Her head rested against his chest with her arms wrapped around
his middle. It was such a peaceful night and cool. But Ron and Hermione were
keeping each other warm.

“Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

There
was a long pause before Ron spoke again. “I’m in love with you.”

Hermione
lifted her head so she could fully see his handsome face and cheeks that had
blushed a deep red. “You-you what?”

“I
love you.”

Hermione
chuckled awkwardly. “Ron you don’t have to jump the gun on that. I mean we’ve
only been going for a month.”

Ron
shook his head smiling nervously. “When you know, you know. And believe me I
know. I couldn’t escape loving you if I wanted to. It’s my fate to be with
you.”

The
eighteen year old was absolutely frozen as she stared down at her boyfriend. Then
a wide smile spread across her lips. Ron had never been very articulate but
what he had just said was absolutely beautiful. Hermione leaned down and
captured his lips with her own. Her fingers treaded into his flaming red hair
that she loved so much.

Ron
broke the kiss and leaned back so he could speak. “So uhh… Do you feel the
same?”

Giggling
Hermione nodded vigorously. “Yes Ronald! Of course I love you! I have for such
a long time. I just didn’t want to rush things and push you if you weren’t
ready.”

Ron
beamed. “I was afraid of the same thing!”

“I
promise to love you forever Ron,” Hermione whispered against his lips before
kissing his once more. “You’ve won my heart and it will always be yours.” She felt
his hands moving up her back and slowly up her shirt. Grinning as she kissed
him Hermione drew her wand. A charm to keep them invisible and sound proof the
area was probably a good idea right about now.

send me a mamma mia song prompt!

burgundydahlia:

dm2840:

For the first time: a Romione missing moment

This scenario has been done to death but I just had to give it my own spin. Missing moment OotP

It was sweltering in 12 Grimmauld Place. London temperatures had been shooting through the roof and it didn’t really help that the all windows were firmly jammed shut. The Order had concealed Grimmauld Place from the outside world so well that even a gentle breeze couldn’t slip through the cracks.

Ron Weasley had his shirt rolled up revealing a pale, freakley stomach. His pajamas were tossed across the room 15 minutes earlier in an attempt to cool off, Ron was lying on his back stating at the ceiling .

His mum had made him carefully make the bed earlier that day ( “just because you’re not at the Burrow doesn’t mean you don’t have chores!”). “What’s the effing point?” Ron though grumpily.

The bed linen had been gloriously rumpled from the tossing and turning and currently was heaped in a corner of the room.

Ron had been contemplating what to do with the night that seemed to lay endlessly infront of him.

“I suppose I could bother Fred and George, or wake Ginny up…”

He rolled out of bed and began walking up the rickety staircase- he paused infront of Ginny’s room. He could hear her soft snores reverberating.

“Merlin knows how she can sleep in this hell hole!” Ron thought incredously

He ambled towards Fred and George’s room before realising he was wearing his Chudley Cannon t shirt ( and matching boxers). Ron groaned at his sudden realisation. He hurried past the door. Might as well get a pee out of this useless trip.

Sighing audibly he made his way up. ‘At this rate, I probably need a shower" Ron thought furiously as he felt his t shirt stick to his back. There were no lights on the last landing before the bathroom, Ron was fumbling around in the darkness when he bumped into something

“What the fu-”

“Ron!”

A wand tip lit

Hermione was looking up at him, a giant towel resting on her head.

Ron immediately felt a dozen butterflies erupt in his stomach. He was NOT expecting her. He was wearing his Chudley Cannon’s set for fucks sake. Ron could feel his ears burn

“Hey! When did you get here? Thought you were coming in day after?!”

He wasn’t sure whether he should hug her- Hermione was busy tugging the towel off her head. Besides, he couldn’t really feel his limbs right now.

“ I just got her today, Moody thought that would be best”

her normally bushy hair was drenched, each curl defined. Little rivulets of water through her hair forming pools on her nightdress. He quickly averted his eyes as dark mounds of her breasts became visible.

Fuck fuck fuck

His face was burning. Hermione, turning pink herself crossed her arms over her chest.

“ I just took a shower- it’s really quite warm in here”

“Yeah I was thinking of taking one myself”

“ You take one and I’ll meet you downstairs and say hello, properly”

Ron steeled himself and looked at her. She was smiling nervously, the brown in her eyes brighter in the wandlight. He couldn’t help but return the smile “See you in a bit, Hermione”

As he watched her make her way down the stairs, it felt like he was seeing her for the first time.

His irritation at watching her dancing with Krum at the Yule Ball had turned into something else. As much as he tried to dismiss his feelings as stray thoughts and well, hormones; it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny his attraction. And today, Ron couldn’t help thinking of how sweet- and sexy she looked right out of the shower. He groaned softly as he pictured her breasts against her damp nightdress.

“ Get it together Weasley.. that’s your best friend” he splashed cold water on his face. “This is all one way”, Ron sternly told himself as he prepared himself to participate in Hermione’s intense discussion about Harry’s emotional state. It was obvious she didnt feel the same way…

Little did he know that five floors down, Hermione Granger, now fully dressed was pacing outside Ron’s door, trying to steady her own racing heart.

This is adorable! Thank you for sharing it, @dm2840 🙂

This is brilliant! Your writing is amazing, @dm2840!

weasleyismyking540:

A Comforting Moment

Charlie Weasley x Alana Jordan(MC)

Alana kissed her mother and father goodbye as the last whistle for students to board sounded off. She hopped onto the train and found a cabin that’s window faced the loading dock. She waved eagerly to her smiling parents as the train made its way out of the station.

It had been a nice, but also dreary Christmas holiday. Her little brother Lee had been ecstatic to see her, as well as try out some new pranks he had learn from his muggle friends at his primary school. One she found very annoying was a prank that involved a rubbery pink bag that made flatulent noises when you sat on it. He had placed it in various chairs, as well as under the sheets on her bed.

Her parents seemed a bit more cheerier than they had been last she saw them. Or at least, her father was. At times it seemed, her mother would close off from the rest of the family, especially in Christmas Day.

It had been the 5th Christmas without Jacob being there. The 5th Christmas where Jacob and Alana wasn’t playing Exploding Snap, and that Jacob wasnt showing Lee another trick on his broom. Once again, cookies and hot cocoa by the fire didn’t taste as sweet as it had used to.

Her mother didn’t even bother to come out of her room on Christmas this time. She had stayed in the room the entire day, and Alana swore she heard gentle weeping every now and then when she would put her ear to the door in an attempt to check on her.

Her father tried his best to keep smiles on her and Lee’s faces. It used to had been easy for him to do so with Lee, but since he was nine now, and knew a bit more about the situation with his brother, he wasn’t in the mood to be overly cheerful.

As the days passed, Alana overheard her parents arguing with weather or not to send her back to Hogwarts. They had found out about her escapades since her first year, and was afraid that they would lose her too.

Thankfully, they decided to let her go back, but strongly urged her to stop whatever it was she was doing. They eve. tried to make her promise to stop her search for her brother, as well as the vaults. Alana didn’t have the heart to lie to them, so she just walked off and shut the door to her room.

As she sat by herself in her cabin, head leaning against the window as she sat her the world pass by, her thoughts drifted to Jacob. She was trying her best to not let the rumors of him actually joining the Death Eaters get to her. Jacob may have been a troublemaker, but he didn’t have a Death Eater bone in his body. The family had been deemed blood traitors since before Alana was born, and Jacob always spoke highly of his older Muggleborn friend that he had. A girl that was named after a flower, from what Alana could remember.

She longed for him to come back home safely. Maybe in the summer she would come home, and her brother would be bent over in the fridge, hunting for food, as he always claimed he was hungry. He would catch her as she would leap into his arms and squeeze him tight. Then block her hits as she screams about how she had been looking for him for the majority of her time at Hogwarts.

She sighed deep. Wishful thinking once again.

The door opened to her cabin. Charlie Weasley walked in after looking for her for the past 20 minutes. Alana gave him a weak smile as he sat down in the seat across from her.

“Well, we were beginning to think you hadn’t gotten on the train,” said Charlie. “Actually, Ben had thought that. He went into a bunch of frightening theories and got himself into a tizzy.”

Alana chuckled. “Hope he isn’t too far gone.”

“Rowan set him right,” said Charlie, eyeing Alana closely. “Is there a reason why you’re here by yourself?”

Alana sighed and turned her attention back to the passing scenery. Charlie felt the air in the room change, and moved beside her, waiting for her to say something. Or nothing. Either way, he would be there for her.

“I miss him so much, Charlie,” Alana said, sighing again. “I just wish I had real answers you know?”

“We are getting them, aren’t we?”

“I dunno. It seems like with every clue we find, it just raises more questions. I was so sure I knew who my brother was before all this. Now, it’s like he’s a stranger. Did I ever really know who he truly was? Is what the Prophet, Skeeter, and Merula saying true? Did he really join You Know Who? Is he really a Death Eater?”

Charlie looked at Alana’s big brown eyes and spied tears waiting to be shed. Without knowing what he was doing, he grabbed and cupped Alana’s hand into his, gently patting the top of her hand with his other one.

“Don’t believe a word of it, Lonnie,” said Charlie, using the nickname that Bill had given her. “Your brother seemed to have went through a lot to try to protect Hogwarts from the dangers of the vaults. My mum says the Prophet is full of bollocks. Especially Skeeter’s rag. And Merula? Since when do you believe a word that harpy says?”

Alana chucked as she wiped her eyes with her other hand. She rested her head on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie tensed up, not really knowing what to do. Alana had never been so close to him. He decided to allow his instincts to kick in, which led him to intertwining his fingers with hers and giving her had a gentle and comforting squeeze. Then, he leaned his head against hers.

“Do you think he’s okay out there?” he heard Alana whisper.

“Dunno for sure, but I think so,” reassured Charlie. He’ll be back before you know it.“

Alana smiled warmly as she snuggled against Charlie’s side. She couldn’t help but feel extremely comfortable around him at that moment. She took a deep breath and the smell of fresh linen, the sun, fudge, and honeysuckle filled her nostrils, relaxing her even more. She closed her eyes as her mind drifted to Hogwarts, and the adventures that were surely awaiting her.

Charlie couldn’t believe something like this was happening. Ever since confessing his feelings to Bill, he had thought about how he would be, how he would act, and what he would say to her when he saw her again. He had an inkling of her fancying Andre, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, Alana would at least consider him after he laid his cards on the table.

He had planned to do just that on the way back to school, thinking that the length of the train ride would be enough time for them to talk about it. However, seeing her in a venerable state, having her find him comforting in a time where she seemed to had wanted to cry, made him decide to reserve the conversation for another day.

Besides, Alana never rested against any other boy like this. Not that he had seen at least. And the smell of vanilla and whatever oils Alana used in her hair was delightfully intoxicating. He didn’t want to say nor do anything to ruin the moment.

A minute later, Bill passed by Alana’s cabin. He peeked in and spied the scene, smirking at how natural his brother and his Hogwarts sister looked together.

Charlie happened to look over and catch Bill’s eye. Bill shot up two thumbs as he smiled from ear to ear.

“Sod off, you.” mouthed Charlie with a grin on his face.

CUTE!

Hi! I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a headcanon where Ron gets career advice? He’s a chess player, so any career that is founded on logic & mathematics would be a reasonable fit. Writer!Ron and Candy Maker!Ron is great too. After the war, Ron opens a new branch of WWW products; magical candies that help patients who suffer from depression, PTSD, anxiety, etc. I like Auror!Ron but I wish Rowling gave him a different, original aspiration. Why can’t Ron have something that’s his?

hillnerd:

headcanonsandmore:

That sounds like a
great idea! I like Auror!Ron too but it would have been nice to see him doing
something that showed that he understood he didn’t need to go the same path as
Harry all the time.

Hope you like this! I
went with the Confectionery Maker!Ron idea, as I feel it fits him really well.

It had been two years
since the war. The wizarding community in the United Kingdom was finally
settling into peace and calm. It was the new millennium, and it seemed an
opportune time for reinvention. At least, those were the words that Hermione
had used.

‘You really should
consider careers advice, Ron.’ The bushy-haired witch was stretched out on
their bed, a large careers leaflet in her hands. Ron was sat on the edge of the
mattress as he polished his shoes; a habit he had fallen into after going to so
many Ministry functions with Hermione. ‘It’s open to all Hogwarts alumni.’

‘Unlike you, I never
actually graduated Hogwarts, ‘Mione. Remember?’

‘So, that letter from
Professor McGonagall last week was just confirming that, was it?’

Ron chuckled. His
girlfriend knew him too well.

‘Okay; fine. She was
suggesting that I consider accepting her recommendation for an honorary
diploma. Happy?’

Hermione reached out
and tenderly traced a line down Ron’s back with her finger, a mischievous smile
forming on her lips.

‘Very.’

Ron’s mouth stretched
into a smile.

‘‘Mione, we have to go
to that party at the Auror Office in half an hour.’

‘It starts in half an hour-’Hermione chewed
her bottom lip and played with a strand of her bushy hair ‘-We can be… Fashionably
late, if you want-’

‘MR WEASLEY!’

Ron was brought out of
this highly enjoyable memory by the
sharp, sobering voice of Minerva McGonagall.

Struggling to recompose
his face (which was probably a deep red colour), Ron entered McGonagall’s
office and sat down in the chair stood before the desk. He had been stood
outside the office for well over ten minutes, but had been so wrapped up in his
thoughts that he hadn’t noticed his former teacher repeatedly calling his name.

‘Now, Mr Weasley, as
you’ve finally decided to come when
called,’ Professor McGonagall said, eyeing Ron with exasperation over her
spectacles. ‘I suggest we begin the careers advice session.’

No matter how old Ron
got, whenever McGonagall spoke to him, he always felt like he did at the age of
fifteen; uncomfortable, nervous and worried that he’d messed up his
Transfiguration essay. He imagined that most people felt like this with their
former teachers, but McGonagall was especially strict compared to most.

‘Er, yeah,’ he mumbled,
rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. ‘I mean, I know that I don’t
have much to go on-’

‘Mr Weasley, do not
sell yourself so short,’ interrupted McGonagall. ‘If I remember correctly, you
received seven O.W.Ls during your days at Hogwarts. Or is my memory failing
me?’

‘Well, yes. I did get
seven.’ Ron said, feeling uncomfortable as he always did when people praised him.
‘But I never really excelled in any of them. Not like Harry or Hermione-’

‘And I was under the
impression I was giving career advice to Ron
Weasley, not Mr Potter or Miss Granger. You have seven O.W.Ls, a perfectly
good amount of qualifications, not to mention your various extra-curricular
activities.’

‘You mean Quidditch?’

McGonagall rolled her
eyes. She had the air of someone running out of patience.

‘Not just Quidditch, Weasley. Although, you
certainly proved your mettle in that respect. No; I mean all the things you’ve
done.’

Ron sat puzzled.

McGonagall sighed.

‘Mr Weasley, did it escape your notice that you were
instrumental in saving the wizarding world from Lord Voldemort?’

‘Oh,’ said Ron. ‘That.’

‘Yes, that.’ Professor McGonagall said. ‘You
have repeatedly shown yourself to be brave, heroic, as well as having an
immensely intelligent strategic mind. As such, you have many different career
options open to you. You are currently interning at the Auror office; is that
correct?’

Ron nodded. He did
enjoy working with the Aurors, but he never felt like it was really for him. Of
course, he had wanted to become an Auror whilst at school, but, after all that
had happened during the second war, he didn’t feel like the profession suited
him. Not to mention…

‘Well, it’s what Harry
wanted to do, and I could hardly not go with him.’

McGonagall raised an
eyebrow.

‘Mr Weasley, are you
seriously trying to tell me that you are in the Auror office just because you
thought you would be abandoning Mr
Potter if you chose something different as a career?’

Ron squirmed in his
seat.

‘Well,’ he mumbled, not
looking the professor in the eye. ‘Not in quite the way you said it, but…
yeah.’

McGonagall sighed. She
seemed to deflate slightly in her seat.

‘I had known for a long
time that you felt overlooked compared to Potter, but I never realised it was
that bad.’

Ron looked down at his
feet; he wasn’t used to seeing the usually stoic McGonagall like this.

‘Ronald,’ McGonagall
said, making Ron even more uncomfortable; he had never heard her call him by
his first name before. ‘I assure you; you won’t be abandoning Potter if you
want a different career to him.’

‘But what career would
I be suited for?’ Ron muttered, feeling very self-conscious. ‘I’m hardly a
genius like Hermione, am I?’

‘I don’t remember Miss Granger defeating my giant chess
set at the age of twelve.’

Before Ron could
answer, Professor McGonagall had summoned several different career pamphlets
from a nearby drawer.

‘SO, YOU WANT A CAREER
IN WRITING?’ screamed one pamphlet. ‘WANT TO MAKE A SPLASH IN BAKING?’ bellowed
another.

‘Professor, I don’t
think any of these will-’

‘Weasley,’ said
McGonagall, as if she hadn’t heard him. ‘Your core strengths are strategy and perseverance.
You might not always have the raw natural talent of some of your peers, but you
work harder than anyone else if you really want something. I would therefore
recommend a career based on something you love doing.’

‘But writing and baking-?’

‘You enjoy them both,
do you not?’

‘How did you-?’

‘Miss Granger seems has
a higher respect for you than you have about yourself.’

Ron tried not to grin.

Merlin, he loved that bushy-haired know-it-all…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Five years seemed to
have passed in the blink of an eye. Ron was cooking breakfast while Hermione
read The Daily Prophet, sipping her
morning coffee.

‘There’s another review
of those new Wheezes products in here.’

‘Oh, not this again,
‘Mione…’

‘People like them,
Ron!’ Hermione exclaimed, climbing out of her chair and wrapping her arms
around Ron’s waist; making goose-bumps erupt up the redhead’s back. ‘I’m
surprised no-one ever thought before about making confectionery to help people
with mental health issues…’

Ron didn’t know why
no-one hadn’t thought of it either. It had been so obvious to him when he had
started at WWW; a lot of people needed support and help, and why shouldn’t they
have confectionery to help do that? From PTSD brought on by the second
wizarding war, to anxiety and depression, Wheezes now had a range of products
to help people. And, of course, Ron had made sure to keep the prices as low as
possible. He knew what it felt like to not afford things he needed, and he had
no wish to inflict that on other people in the same position.

‘What did the review
say, by the way?’ he asked, trying to keep his heart-rate normal as Hermione’s
soft hands tenderly squeezed his lower chest.

‘Ten out of ten, five
gold stars, etc., etc.,’ Hermione said, nuzzling into his back. ‘Which,
considering who is making the sweets, doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.’

‘Very funny, love.’

‘I’m serious!’ Hermione
said, smiling up at him. ‘Those sweets are a great idea, and they’re helping so
many people! You really should be proud of your achievements more!’

‘I’m just making sweets
for a joke shop.’

‘And making a lot of
people very happy. Just like you make me happy.’

‘’Mione, I can’t cook
if you keep flirting with me.’

Hermione giggled,
causing Ron’s ears to go red.

‘Well, I’m not stopping
anytime soon, Ron.’ The bushy-haired witch grinned, a roughish look forming on
her mouth. ‘Unless you try and make me stop.’

Ron raised an eyebrow,
before dropping the now-cooked scrambled eggs onto two plates nearby.

‘Hermione Granger, is
that an invitation?’

Ron felt Hermione’s
arms loosen around his waist, and he turned round to look at her. She was
leaning against the breakfast table, a mischevious twinkle in her eye.

‘Yes, Mr Candy-man. Yes it is….’

I may have gotten a
little distracted by the domestic Romione flirtations, but I hope you like this
nonetheless @ronandhappiness!

Cuute

Thanks, @hillnerd! Glad you like it!

weasleyismyking540:

Hogwarts Mystery Stories: Feelings and Jumpers

Characters: Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Alana Jordan (MC)

Just a little story that popped into my head when I finally got Bill’s Weasley jumper. Hope you like!!

It had been a tradition in the Weasley family since Bill was a baby that his mum would knit the family jumpers for Christmas with the initial of their first names on them. Each Christmas without fail, Bill always got a brown jumper with a gold W knitted on the front. Though Bill would have rather had a nice blue jumper like his father would get, he never complained, especially because the jumpers were hands down the warmest things he owned.

The tradition didn’t stop when Bill started Hogwarts. In Bill’s second year, whe he didnt go home for the holidays, his mum sent him a nice package with homemade fudge, knitted gloves with a matching hat and scarf, and of course, his Weasley jumper. Though he got the mickey taken out on him for a few weeks, he still wore the jumper, and cherished it even more because it was sent to school for him.

Now it was no secret around Hogwarts that Bill had grown very fond of 4th year Alana Jordan. He had met her in his 4th year, when the young 2nd year Gryffindor needed to learn how to cast Incendio to get past the cursed ice. Since then, they had been on many adventures, each more dangerous than the last, but still thrilling and exciting. He had come to consider Alana as one of his best mates.

Which is why when Christmas came along, he had the perfect gift to give her.

“Is this one of your jumpers, Bill?” asked a surprised Alana when she opened her gift in one of the cabins of the Hogwarts Express. They were on their way home and Bill wanted to see her face when she opened his gift.

“Sure is,” said Bill proudly. “My first year jumper to be exact. I figured that one would fit you nicely.”

Alana let out a girlish squeal as she slipped the jumper over her body. She could instantly feel the warmth of the jumper spread all over, not just what the jumper was covering. It wasn’t exactly snug, but it did drape comfortably over her, like a wearable blanket.

Alana pulled the collar over her nose an inhaled. The jumper smelled of what she imagined Bill’s home smelled like: cookies, spices, fresh linen, and a bit of burnt logs. Probably from Bill wearing it near the fireplace at school. One of Bill’s favorite spots to study was on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“Thank you, Bill!! I’m going to wear this jumper til the letter falls off.” said Alana enthusiastically, giving Bill a big hug around his waist, as he was significantly taller than her.

Just then, Charlie and Rowan walked in, arms weighed down with treats from the trolley and speaking merrily. They paused as they looked at the scene they had walked into. Charlie felt his ears tingle as they turned red with blush.

“Are we interrupting?” asked Rowan in a playfully suspicious voice.

Alana smiled as she unlatched from Bill’s waist. “Oh no, nothing at all. I was just thanking Bill for the lovely early Christmas gift he just gave me.

Alana turned so the big gold W was showing to her friends. Rowan smiled happily, while Charlie felt even more uneasy.

“I always knew you were the favorite,” joked Rowan as she sat down with her treats.

“Now now Rowan, I got you a gift too.” laughed Bill as he sat down and snatched a cauldron cake from Rowan’s arms. “You’ll just have to wait for Christmas to get it.”

Charlie continued to stand, looking awkwardly at Alana, trying to find words to say.

“It…..it suits you,” he said, putting the treats down and scratching the back of his neck, a move he often did when he was nervous. “It’s like you’re an honorary Weasley or something.”

Alana smiled. “An honorary Weasley? Really? Brilliant!! I think it would be lovely to be a member of your clan. All the stories you tell of your brothers and sister. They are truly fascinating.”

“Yeah,” said Charlie, sitting down. “Fascinating.”

The rest of the trip went without a hitch. For Alana and Rowan that is, who were happily chatting over classes and gossiping about other students. Bill on the other hand, spent the next few hours avoiding monstrous gazes from his younger brother on the other side of the cabin. He couldn’t figure out why it seemed like all of a sudden Charlie wanted to take his head off.

When they arrived at King’s Cross, they all said their goodbyes, with Charlie awkwardly giving Alana a hug. That’s when it hit Bill. And he couldn’t wait to get home and address it.

After dinner and helping get the twins, Ron, and Ginny to bed, Bill went up to Charlie’s room that he had shared with Percy. Percy had wanted to go to their Great Aunt Muriel’s for the night, so Charlie had the room to himself.

“Alright Dragon Boy, out with it.” said Bill as he closed Charlie’s room door and sat on Percy’s empty bed. “Why were you giving me the avada kedavra stare on the way home?”

“Sod off,” mumbled Charlie as he unpacked his trunk.

“Sod off? Really?” said Bill, shocked that Charlie was speaking to him like that. “So you’re that cross with me? What did I do?”

“Forget it.”

“Come on, Charlie. Out with it. I don’t want you going to bed mad at me, especially when I don’t know what I did.”

Charlie sighed, but said nothing. Bill continued to sit and wait to see if Charlie would open up.

“You know,” began Charlie, as he hung up his jacket, “it must be so wonderful to be the oldest. You get everything first. All the love, all the clothes, all the praise, and you always get first pick of whatever you want. ”

Bill looked at his brother in confusion. So this wasn’t about Alana. Now he was even more lost.

“You sound mental and I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he said.

“You always have to have everything first!” blurted out Charlie as he slammed his dragon book onto his desk. “Every single thing, you always have to have first call at it. Hell, why can’t I get a chance first? Why do you always have to claim everything before your sibling even gets a chance to speak?”

Bill thought about what Charlie said, and chuckled. So he was right.

“So this is about Lonnie, isn’t it?” asked Bill, trying not to crack a smile.

Charlie opened his mouth wide to protest. Then, he sighed, dropping his shoulders and plopping onto his bed.

“Okay, so maybe I fancy her a little..”

“Ta!! So that’s what all that staring was about on the train!!” said Bill, slapping his knee and laughing.

“Don’t you dare laugh.” warned Charlie.

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” said Bill, bring his loud laughter down to a grin. “It’s just I should have known. It was so obvious how you were since you met her.”

“It isn’t that obvious, is it?” said Charlie, rubbing the back of his neck while his ears were turning red.

“Oh, it is. The way you look at her sometimes is like how you look when you read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter to you how I feel, does it?” said Charlie viciously. “ Seems like you’ve already staked your claim on her from what I’ve seen.”

“Mate, do you mean me giving her my old jumper?” asked Bill.

“A right Sherlock, you are,” said Charlie, crossing his arms.

Bill couldn’t help but to burst out with laughter. This made Charlie even more irate.

“This is amusing to you??” said Charlie through gritted teeth.

“It certainly is,” laughed Bill as he held his sides.

Charlie felt his anger rising as he dropped his head. He wanted nothing more than to hex Bill’s mouth off his face. How dare his brother act so insensitive to his feelings. And right to his face too.

Bill wiped the tears from the laughter from his eyes and looked over at Charlie’s hurt and angry face. His laughter died down immediately.

“Merlin, do I have to spell it out?” said Bill. “I don’t fancy Alana, okay?”

Charlie’s head shot up with a quickness. “Are you having me on?” he asked.

“No, not at all.” replied Bill kindly. “Alana has always been like Ginny to me. Like my very own Hogwarts sister. And I’m pretty sure she probably feels the same way. I only gave her the jumper because she is that way to me. Plus, it was too small anyways, and I didnt want to waste a nice jumper. You know how Mum gets.”

Charlie felt a delightful shiver run down his spine.

“So, you don’t fancy her at all?” he asked quickly. He just had to be completely sure.

“Not a worry, mate. Though lovely, I dont fancy her like that in the slightest. I never did.” reassured Bill.

Charlie sighed as he relaxed on his bed. “Right. Okay well, I feel a bit better then.” he said, laying down, the back of his head resting on his hand on his pillow.

“So,” said Bill slyly, “when are you going to tell her?”

Charlie’s eyes grew wide. “Tell her? Sometimes it feels like I can barely speak to her.”

“Come off it, I’ve heard you have many conversations with Alana.”

“Yeah, about dragons, creatures, and schoolwork. Never about….you know…..feelings.”

“That’s true.”

“Besides,” said Charlie in a morose tone, “I think that she fancies Andre. I’ve overheard her and Rowan talking about it in Care of Magical Creatures before.”

Bill nodded. He didn’t want to tell his little brother that he in fact knew for sure that Andre was who Alana did indeed fancy. However, he also knew that Alana was very fond of Charlie, and could tell that she didn’t view him in a sibling like manor as she viewed himself. He felt that maybe there could be a spark there, and that something could happen.

If only Charlie would try and assert himself.

“She’s 14, girls minds are flighty at 14,” said Bill with a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe if you showed that you did fancy her, she may come around to you. Girls are attracted to confidence. You’ll lose what you desire if you stay hanging in the background, mate.”

“You think so?” asked Charlie.

“I know so.” said Bill, sitting down to Charlie’s laying form. “Don’t sit around like a prat and expect her to come to you. Go to her. Ask her to a Hogsmeade day, just the pair of you. Hell, there has been rumors of a ball happening soon. If those rumors end up being true, ask her to the ball. You can do it, Charlie.”

Charlie sat up, a newfound feeling of hope started to grow inside of him. “You’re right. I should. Perhaps I’ll ask her to Hogsmeade when I see her on the train after New Years.”

Bill smiled proudly at his brother. “That’s the spirit, mate.”

“Thanks, old man,” said Charlie, giving Bill a handshake. “I can’t wait to get back to school now!!”

Bill grinned at Charlie, giving him a hard pat on the back that made Charlie cough. “And here I thought you would never be interested in anything other than dragons.” he chuckled.

“Yeah, well, sod off.”

I’ve always headcanoned Charlie as Aro-Ace, but this was adorable! Great writing!

Hi! I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a headcanon where Ron gets career advice? He’s a chess player, so any career that is founded on logic & mathematics would be a reasonable fit. Writer!Ron and Candy Maker!Ron is great too. After the war, Ron opens a new branch of WWW products; magical candies that help patients who suffer from depression, PTSD, anxiety, etc. I like Auror!Ron but I wish Rowling gave him a different, original aspiration. Why can’t Ron have something that’s his?

ronandhappiness:

headcanonsandmore:

That sounds like a
great idea! I like Auror!Ron too but it would have been nice to see him doing
something that showed that he understood he didn’t need to go the same path as
Harry all the time.

Hope you like this! I
went with the Confectionery Maker!Ron idea, as I feel it fits him really well.

It had been two years
since the war. The wizarding community in the United Kingdom was finally
settling into peace and calm. It was the new millennium, and it seemed an
opportune time for reinvention. At least, those were the words that Hermione
had used.

‘You really should
consider careers advice, Ron.’ The bushy-haired witch was stretched out on
their bed, a large careers leaflet in her hands. Ron was sat on the edge of the
mattress as he polished his shoes; a habit he had fallen into after going to so
many Ministry functions with Hermione. ‘It’s open to all Hogwarts alumni.’

‘Unlike you, I never
actually graduated Hogwarts, ‘Mione. Remember?’

‘So, that letter from
Professor McGonagall last week was just confirming that, was it?’

Ron chuckled. His
girlfriend knew him too well.

‘Okay; fine. She was
suggesting that I consider accepting her recommendation for an honorary
diploma. Happy?’

Hermione reached out
and tenderly traced a line down Ron’s back with her finger, a mischievous smile
forming on her lips.

‘Very.’

Ron’s mouth stretched
into a smile.

‘‘Mione, we have to go
to that party at the Auror Office in half an hour.’

‘It starts in half an hour-’Hermione chewed
her bottom lip and played with a strand of her bushy hair ‘-We can be… Fashionably
late, if you want-’

‘MR WEASLEY!’

Ron was brought out of
this highly enjoyable memory by the
sharp, sobering voice of Minerva McGonagall.

Struggling to recompose
his face (which was probably a deep red colour), Ron entered McGonagall’s
office and sat down in the chair stood before the desk. He had been stood
outside the office for well over ten minutes, but had been so wrapped up in his
thoughts that he hadn’t noticed his former teacher repeatedly calling his name.

‘Now, Mr Weasley, as
you’ve finally decided to come when
called,’ Professor McGonagall said, eyeing Ron with exasperation over her
spectacles. ‘I suggest we begin the careers advice session.’

No matter how old Ron
got, whenever McGonagall spoke to him, he always felt like he did at the age of
fifteen; uncomfortable, nervous and worried that he’d messed up his
Transfiguration essay. He imagined that most people felt like this with their
former teachers, but McGonagall was especially strict compared to most.

‘Er, yeah,’ he mumbled,
rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. ‘I mean, I know that I don’t
have much to go on-’

‘Mr Weasley, do not
sell yourself so short,’ interrupted McGonagall. ‘If I remember correctly, you
received seven O.W.Ls during your days at Hogwarts. Or is my memory failing
me?’

‘Well, yes. I did get
seven.’ Ron said, feeling uncomfortable as he always did when people praised him.
‘But I never really excelled in any of them. Not like Harry or Hermione-’

‘And I was under the
impression I was giving career advice to Ron
Weasley, not Mr Potter or Miss Granger. You have seven O.W.Ls, a perfectly
good amount of qualifications, not to mention your various extra-curricular
activities.’

‘You mean Quidditch?’

McGonagall rolled her
eyes. She had the air of someone running out of patience.

‘Not just Quidditch, Weasley. Although, you
certainly proved your mettle in that respect. No; I mean all the things you’ve
done.’

Ron sat puzzled.

McGonagall sighed.

‘Mr Weasley, did it escape your notice that you were
instrumental in saving the wizarding world from Lord Voldemort?’

‘Oh,’ said Ron. ‘That.’

‘Yes, that.’ Professor McGonagall said. ‘You
have repeatedly shown yourself to be brave, heroic, as well as having an
immensely intelligent strategic mind. As such, you have many different career
options open to you. You are currently interning at the Auror office; is that
correct?’

Ron nodded. He did
enjoy working with the Aurors, but he never felt like it was really for him. Of
course, he had wanted to become an Auror whilst at school, but, after all that
had happened during the second war, he didn’t feel like the profession suited
him. Not to mention…

‘Well, it’s what Harry
wanted to do, and I could hardly not go with him.’

McGonagall raised an
eyebrow.

‘Mr Weasley, are you
seriously trying to tell me that you are in the Auror office just because you
thought you would be abandoning Mr
Potter if you chose something different as a career?’

Ron squirmed in his
seat.

‘Well,’ he mumbled, not
looking the professor in the eye. ‘Not in quite the way you said it, but…
yeah.’

McGonagall sighed. She
seemed to deflate slightly in her seat.

‘I had known for a long
time that you felt overlooked compared to Potter, but I never realised it was
that bad.’

Ron looked down at his
feet; he wasn’t used to seeing the usually stoic McGonagall like this.

‘Ronald,’ McGonagall
said, making Ron even more uncomfortable; he had never heard her call him by
his first name before. ‘I assure you; you won’t be abandoning Potter if you
want a different career to him.’

‘But what career would
I be suited for?’ Ron muttered, feeling very self-conscious. ‘I’m hardly a
genius like Hermione, am I?’

‘I don’t remember Miss Granger defeating my giant chess
set at the age of twelve.’

Before Ron could
answer, Professor McGonagall had summoned several different career pamphlets
from a nearby drawer.

‘SO, YOU WANT A CAREER
IN WRITING?’ screamed one pamphlet. ‘WANT TO MAKE A SPLASH IN BAKING?’ bellowed
another.

‘Professor, I don’t
think any of these will-’

‘Weasley,’ said
McGonagall, as if she hadn’t heard him. ‘Your core strengths are strategy and perseverance.
You might not always have the raw natural talent of some of your peers, but you
work harder than anyone else if you really want something. I would therefore
recommend a career based on something you love doing.’

‘But writing and baking-?’

‘You enjoy them both,
do you not?’

‘How did you-?’

‘Miss Granger seems has
a higher respect for you than you have about yourself.’

Ron tried not to grin.

Merlin, he loved that bushy-haired know-it-all…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Five years seemed to
have passed in the blink of an eye. Ron was cooking breakfast while Hermione
read The Daily Prophet, sipping her
morning coffee.

‘There’s another review
of those new Wheezes products in here.’

‘Oh, not this again,
‘Mione…’

‘People like them,
Ron!’ Hermione exclaimed, climbing out of her chair and wrapping her arms
around Ron’s waist; making goose-bumps erupt up the redhead’s back. ‘I’m
surprised no-one ever thought before about making confectionery to help people
with mental health issues…’

Ron didn’t know why
no-one hadn’t thought of it either. It had been so obvious to him when he had
started at WWW; a lot of people needed support and help, and why shouldn’t they
have confectionery to help do that? From PTSD brought on by the second
wizarding war, to anxiety and depression, Wheezes now had a range of products
to help people. And, of course, Ron had made sure to keep the prices as low as
possible. He knew what it felt like to not afford things he needed, and he had
no wish to inflict that on other people in the same position.

‘What did the review
say, by the way?’ he asked, trying to keep his heart-rate normal as Hermione’s
soft hands tenderly squeezed his lower chest.

‘Ten out of ten, five
gold stars, etc., etc.,’ Hermione said, nuzzling into his back. ‘Which,
considering who is making the sweets, doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.’

‘Very funny, love.’

‘I’m serious!’ Hermione
said, smiling up at him. ‘Those sweets are a great idea, and they’re helping so
many people! You really should be proud of your achievements more!’

‘I’m just making sweets
for a joke shop.’

‘And making a lot of
people very happy. Just like you make me happy.’

‘’Mione, I can’t cook
if you keep flirting with me.’

Hermione giggled,
causing Ron’s ears to go red.

‘Well, I’m not stopping
anytime soon, Ron.’ The bushy-haired witch grinned, a roughish look forming on
her mouth. ‘Unless you try and make me stop.’

Ron raised an eyebrow,
before dropping the now-cooked scrambled eggs onto two plates nearby.

‘Hermione Granger, is
that an invitation?’

Ron felt Hermione’s
arms loosen around his waist, and he turned round to look at her. She was
leaning against the breakfast table, a mischevious twinkle in her eye.

‘Yes, Mr Candy-man. Yes it is….’

I may have gotten a
little distracted by the domestic Romione flirtations, but I hope you like this
nonetheless @ronandhappiness!

I’m always down for Hermione praising Ron but my favourite was the McGonagall and Ron interaction. It’s about time someone tells Ron that he’s talented and unique and bright and that he doesn’t have to follow his best friend, although it warms my heart that it’s because he didn’t want to abandon Harry. Poor dove.

I adore writer!ron but I’m personally rooting for confectioner!ron because it has a basis in canon. I love the idea of Ron becoming Willy Wonka. I wasn’t mad at him for wanting to be an auror, I was mad at Rowling. She made Ron piggy-back Harry’s career and then George’s career. It’s like Ron’s never allowed to do something original or something that’ll stop him from being Harry’s sidekick. Why can’t Ron have something that’s his and only his?

Sorry for injecting negativity but I really enjoyed reading this. Thank you so much for taking the time to write it. You’re a gem.

No problem; glad you liked it!

Can I please request #30 (“I dunno? Just set it on fire, I guess”) from that prompt list, if you feel so inclined? thank you!

gryffindormischief:

A/N: I wasn’t sure which pairing you wanted but then I got this idea 🙂

Ron’s flicking through their pile of mail, sorting it into four messy piles at the kitchen table when he pauses, brows wrinkled together. “Hermione? You’ve got mail.”

“Well spotted, Ron,” she snorts, barely glancing up at the growing mountain before grabbing her pink highlighter and dragging it across the page, then clicking it shut with a pop.

His foot kicks her ankle beneath the table as he frowns at the letter. “It’s from Witch Weekly.”

Sipping at her tepid tea, Hermione glances Ron’s way as he squints at the tidy script across the front of the envelope – he really should get his eyes checked – before shrugging, “It’s probably another one of those ‘personalized’ mailers trying to get a new subscription started. Rose doesn’t care and you and I both prefer my wild hair.”

Ron glances up at that, blue eyes a bit heated as his gaze dances over her messy locks, currently tied up haphazardly atop her head with a few stray pencils speared through. “That’s safe to say.”

Brow rising, Hermione bites the cap of her pen before resuming her reading, as if unaware of Ron’s rising pulse. But he know’ she’s caught on by the way she tilts her jaw, exposes her neck, toys with a stray curl – she’s a bloody minx. And though he is tempted, he does have curiosity to be satisfied before other desires, so he waves the envelope. “Nonetheless, I can open it? Looks like it’s genuine.”

“You work in business – shouldn’t you know how to spot a fake?” Hermione asks, waving her hand toward the letter in a gesture that leaves the decision in his lap.

Digging his thumb under the lip of the opening, Ron answers, “Our clientele don’t particularly require trick advertising – they prefer to be the tricksters.”

Hermione breathes out a laugh as Ron pulls the missive free and scans the contents, “S’not advertising – well, it could be but I’m not sure what the purpose would be.”

Another highlight, orange this time. “Care to enlighten?”

“They want to do a piece on you – career women with families and such,” Ron murmurs, still reading the letter as he summarizes, “What will you do with it?”

Setting down her pen, Hermione frowns, thoughtful, “I don’t know – burn it?”

Ron lets the letter drop to the table and swipes a carrot stick from Hermione’s snack plate. “Why – imagine if something like this had been in Witch Weekly when we were at Hogwarts.”

For the first time, Hermione focuses her full attention on Ron, brushing her books and papers aside before claiming a carrot stick of her own, though she fiddles with it rather than taking a bite. “I – I suppose that would’ve been – important, in a way.”

Smiling softly, Ron steadies her hands and scoots closer, thumb brushing her knuckles. “Like it or no, you’re a role-model – a good one.”

A flush rises on Hermione’s cheeks and Ron chuckles, “Don’t be embarrassed, I’m your husband. Should hope that I say nice things about you.”

Leaning forward, Hermione cups Ron’s face and strokes his jaw gently. “You’re probably the sweetest man I’ve ever known.”

“Don’t go spreading it around – I’ve a reputation to keep up.”

Hermione chuckles and relaxes back into her chair. “Never,” she begins tugging pencils from her hair and thrusts one toward the dropped letter, “I’ll think about it – doing the interview or whatever.”

Rising, Ron presses a kiss to her forehead and pours himself a glass of pumpkin juice. “Well I hope you do it – I want a Hermione Granger-Weasley poster for my wall.”

Romione fluff!! Please and thank you.

the-ginger-magician:

As the early morning sun streamed though the curtains and lit up the
bed in beams of light, Ron sleepily reached an arm out to rest on
Hermione’s bare hip. A little more awake, Hermione’s fingers traced the
faint white lines on his forearm, reflecting on how the scars against
the backdrop of freckles looked quite a bit like the Milky Way amongst
the stars. An entire galaxy on one man. A soft chuckle from where she
was resting her head proved that Ron was starting to properly wake up.

“Mmm… that tickles.”

“Oh, the big tough Auror can’t handle a little… touching?”

She caresses his arm again, this time suggestively.

“Watch it, soon-to-be Mrs. Weasley, or it will take us a lot longer to get out of this bed.”

“You know, I’m not too sure on the whole Mrs. Weasley thing. Every time I hear it I picture your mother, and sometimes it is very much not the proper context for that.” She gives an exaggerated shudder, but then suddenly smiles and playfully shoves at him a little. “How would you feel about becoming Mr. Granger?”

He counters her shove by wrapping both arms firmly around her. “Fine by me.”

“What? Really?”

“Sure. There’s enough Weasleys to go around.”

“Good, because I don’t think I really want to give up my name. Though… I might be looking forward to becoming a little bit of a Weasley.”

“’Mione, we can change our name to Longbottom for all I care. I’m more looking forward to the actual event taking place in two months, one week, three
days, and…” he turns his neck slightly to look at the clock, “eleven
hours. Not that I’m counting.”

“No, not counting at all.” She smiles and lays her head back down on his chest. “How about a hyphen? How does Granger-Weasley sound to you?”

“Like a power couple that can take on the world, and have. Eleven hours and” he kisses the only part of her he can reach, the top of her head, “twenty-three minutes.”

She smiles and decides that getting up can wait a little longer.

‘we should have been more prepared for the explosion.’

the-ginger-magician:

It was a slow simmer for years in the making, but when Ron and Hermione finally got together it was like fireworks.

Harry and Ginny were standing on the back porch steps at the Burrow, looking out toward where Ron and Hermione were relaxing in the shade of a nearby tree to get some “privacy”. Well.. relaxing isn’t exactly the word for what they are doing.

“Mum said to fetch those two for dinner over fifteen minutes ago. Don’t you think it’s time to interrupt them?”

“Probably.”

“Do you think they would notice if we just called their names from over here?”

“Probably not.”

Ginny pulls a face and looks at Harry, turning her whole body so her back is to the two lovebirds under the tree.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy they’re together, but I just wish I’d had more time to adjust. Now it’s like everywhere I turn I have to see my brother with his tongue down my best friend’s throat. Ugh!”

She sticks her tongue out in disgust and Harry laughs a sort of unrestrained laugh he hasn’t let out in a long while, causing Ginny to smile.

“You do realize that’s exactly what we did to Ron, right?”

She snakes her hand into his and laces their fingers and smirks. “What’s your point?”

“That their tension was burning longer than ours, so maybe we should have been more prepared for the explosion.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs then starts walking back through the door into the house, giving Harry a quick peck on the lips as she passes, then calls over her shoulder, “But it’s your turn to diffuse that bomb over there because I’m not getting near it.”

Turning back toward his two best friends Harry cringes for a second at the sight before checking his watch. Maybe he should let them have another ten minutes? He nods quickly to himself before turning and following his girlfriend into the house. Ron’s stomach will bring them in for dinner eventually anyway, probably better to just wait it out.