Ron Weasley’s head fell backwards and hit the trunk of the tree he had propped himself against, jarring him awake. He scrubbed his face with his hands, hoping to clear the fuzziness from his brain. The desired clarity did not arrive. Things really hadn’t been quite right since that horrible night last month. Dumbledore dead, Bill maimed, Snape and Malfoy escaped. Ron was afraid things weren’t going to be quite right for a really really long time.
He stretched a bit, rested his elbows on his knees. There really wasn’t any place better than the Burrow’s backyard on a summer night. Stars gleamed serenely above him in a grand expanse of sky, broken only by the jumbled, haphazard outline of the Burrow itself. It seemed impossible that in a few days’ time, he was going to leave this place, his home, his family, without the promise of returning. But there wasn’t one second of hesitation in his mind. His place was with Harry, helping him track down the Horcruxes, destroying the remnants of Voldemort’s soul so that the world would be safe again.
It was really unbelievable, Ron thought to himself. Who would have thought, me? Me on a quest with the most famous wizard of my generation “ my best friend, nonetheless - to destroy the most infamous wizard of all time?
All those years, he had felt shunted around, no place for boring old Ronald Weasley, who couldn’t match up to his brothers - not as dashing and daring as Bill, as athletic as Charlie, as brainy as Percy (who turned out to be an insensitive arse anyway) or as funny and jollying as the twins.
The enormity of what he was about to do had hit him gradually over the last week or so. All those scrapes, near-misses, and adventures of the past few years, the danger of these things had never weighed on him before. Trolls, murderous chess pieces, gigantic spiders (Ron shivered involuntarily) flying brains, Death Eaters “ when faced with these things, he had just reacted, he hadn’t pondered the danger of the situation.
Ron smiled ruefully to himself and remembered the eleven-year-old who had gazed into the Mirror of Erised and wished for the simple joys of a Quidditch trophy and a Head Boy badge. That boy had just wanted someone to notice him, to pick him out the crowd of talented older brothers and famous best friend and see him, as he was, and think he was important and special as well.
He had come a long way from that boy in the past six years “ hadn’t he held the Quidditch cup in his hand? Didn’t he have a prefect badge pinned to his robes? But…but, more than that. Ron thought, hoped, that someone did think he was important. Someone who noticed everything, from a smudge of dirt on his face to the errors she corrected in his Potions essays. The person who, if Ron had The Mirror of Erised sitting in front of him now, would be smiling back at him. He couldn’t understand why the thought of her scared him so much.
He was saved from his rambling thoughts by the smack of the Burrow’s back door opening. Ginny was jogging towards him, her long hair bouncing against her t-shirt.
“Can I sit?” She asked, and plopped down beside him without waiting for a reply. “Mum’s having kittens in there. She wanted real fairies for the centerpieces, but the lanterns keep popping open. I think Fred and George put an Anti-Locking charm on the hinges. There are fairies all over the house…” and sure enough, as they watched, two glowing orbs zoomed out of the kitchen window and into the night.
“Fairies? Is that the only reason you came out here, Gin?” Ron knew it wasn’t. Ginny was here for the same reason he had originally come outside. Mr. Weasley had gone to fetch Harry from Privet Drive, and despite the lateness of the hour, Ron had wanted to greet his best friend when he arrived. Besides, all this wedding nonsense had turned the household upside-down, so no one was really sleeping very well this week anyway.
“No, of course not. I came to wait for Harry. I want to see him,” she shrugged. Her straightforwardness never ceased to amaze Ron. Topics that made him want to curl up into a ball or leave the room, muttering and red-faced, Ginny tackled head-on. Actually, he had learned to respect his little sister a lot this summer. True, he still felt the urge to protect her “ even from things she didn’t want to be protected from “ but his opinion of her had shifted since the night Dumbledore had died. She had fought bravely alongside Hermione, he and the others. She was fun to be around, a terrific Quidditch player, and easier to talk to than his brothers.
“Also,” Ginny continued, scanning the sky, “I am waiting for Errol to get back. I thought he, and Harry come to think of it, would get here sooner.”
Ron lay back, stretching out on the grass, “Who’re you expecting post from?”
“Hermione.”
“Hermione!?!?” Ron sat back up with a shot, unconsciously tidying his hair.
“Yes,” Ginny grinned, “You remember her, don’t you? Impossible hair, sort of bossy, annoyingly right all the time?”
“Very funny. You might have told me you were writing her, I may have wanted to send something along,” he grumbled. He didn’t like the way Ginny was smirking at him. Nor did he think her description of Hermione, though said in jest and fondly, was entirely accurate. Ok, yes, her hair really was a bit of a mess, but it was endearing, really, that someone who was so together and in control had such insane hair. And, sure, she was a bit pushy, and frankly annoying sometimes, but that was because she had her friends’ best interests at heart. Ginny also had failed to mention how Hermione’s eyes lit up when she was able to track down some obscure piece of information or solve a particularly puzzling task.
“Oh, you have got it bad! Almost as bad as I do, I think!” Ginny giggled and hugged her knees to her chest. “You look as goofy as Luna does when she’s talking about Crumpled Horkstacks or whatever-she-calls ‘em.”
“Shuddup, Gin,” Ron muttered.
“What’s the big deal? It’s not like it’s a secret that you two are crazy about each other! Ron, let me tell you something “ if you’re worried Hermione’s going to turn you down, don’t be. It’s a sure thing,” Ginny soothed.
“It’s not that. It’s - it’s - dammit!” He hit the ground in frustration. How could he explain to his sister how afraid he was, not only for himself, but for Harry and Hermione as well? He longed for his former naivety and thoughtlessness, but he knew that no amount of wishing would get them back. He wasn’t afraid of his own death nearly as much as the possibility that one or both of them would die “ leaving him alone. The idea of caring about Hermione even more than he already did, and then losing her, turned his stomach to ice. He had contemplated writing to Harry a dozen times this month, and urging him to leave for Godric’s Hollow ahead of schedule, just the two of them. Common sense had stayed his hand each time. Not only would Hermione track them down eventually, they needed her smarts and careful hand to stay their impetuousness. But it didn’t warm the chilly depths of his stomach to know this.
Meanwhile, his sister was staring hard at him. Her face softened a bit. “I know, Ron. I understand. You think to yourself, ‘How bad could it get? Could my heart actually split in half?’ Don’t think you are alone in this “ god, I’ve got all of you leaving me. You’re my brother, Hermione’s one of my closest friends, and Harry, well, Harry’s Harry. But, don’t you remember what McGonagall said the night Dumbledore died? Isn’t it better to have a little more love in the world? You and Harry, both of you, think you’re protecting the people you love…when really, you are just trying to protect your own hearts.”
She was right. He didn’t know what to say. Luckily, both he and Ginny were distracted by the uneven sound of wings flapping towards them. They jumped up, tracking Errol’s sloppy flight towards the Burrow. Ginny held out her arm and the owl landed precariously. He bounded clumsily away the moment she untied the scroll from leg. She read it, chuckled to herself, and grinned up at Ron.
“Well, you better get yourself together. The girl herself will be here in less than nine hours,” Ginny said. With these words, Ron’s stomach went from cold to hot to cold again.
“How about you? You’ve got less time than that, unless Dad and Harry went off clubbing with some Muggles in London or something,” Ron fired back. Brother and sister grinned nervously at each other for a moment, and then started laughing. They couldn’t stop. Each time they got their giggles under control, they caught each other’s eye and cracked up again. It wasn’t even funny really, but they couldn’t help themselves. Ron felt some of the tension and worry of the past month slip away. Ginny leaned on his arm as she tried to compose herself.
“What’s going on here? Simultaneous Weasley breakdowns? Want to clue a fellow in on the joke?” The Weasleys gasped and looked up. Two familiar forms were striding across the lawn, and as Ginny and Ron waved, Harry broke into a run to greet his friends.
The Time is Now by Hermione816
Chapter Notes: Ron's thinking about Harry's quest and the danger ahead for he and his friends - that, and a certain bushy-haired girl he knows. His little sister gives him some news - and some advice.