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Being a half-blood child of divorced parents meant that you live 2 very distinct lives. On one hand you have your magical life courtesy of your father while on your mum’s side you are just an ordinary suburban teenager.
With the majority of the year in Hogwarts, your social life was more so inclined to the Wizarding world. Spending only short holidays in the muggle world. That the magicless part of your life rarely ever brought up in conversation.
In hindsight, that disconnect between the two worlds is what is keeping you safe now.
See, You Know Who’s forces are on the rise ever since Dumbledore died.
Muggleborns are being hunted and the Daily Prophet’s headlines about missing people are almost guaranteed at this point.
Your father had you stay with your mother in hiding. “These are dangerous times”, he said, “and sooner or later the Death Eaters would be targeting half bloods next.”
Despite their turbulent past, your parents both agreed on something after 14 years: Keep Y/N L/N safe, Keep you hidden. No magic to be used, you were to be a muggle.
Since not much information was known about your non magic side, you started using your mother’s last name and even dyed your hair for an extra level of protection.
2 months into being Y/N M/L/N has got you on edge. You get scraps of news about the war from what notes you’d get from your father. The Carrows and Snape seizing control of Hogwarts and that Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are on the run. Still you were grateful, knowing that risk he’d taken.
As you rounded the street corner of your house, hands deep inside your heat charmed pockets from the harsh winter weather.
Crack! Muggles would brush off the sound to the crunching of fallen leaves but to witches and wizards, it is the unmistakable sound of an apparition.
It couldn’t be your father- he’d apparate in the small exclusion zone hidden in the garden shed.
Your mind runs to the worst case scenario. How the death eaters found you, you don’t know and you don’t intend to find out much less corner you.
“Petrificus totalus” you aim towards the figure.
Thud.
After a quick scan to make sure your muggle neighbour hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, you head towards the frozen body. It’d be best to take their wand away and erase their memory.
The death eaters would really take in anyone to find Harry huh, you thought to yourself.
The intruder on the ground looked like he went through hell and back, clothes tattered and dirty, even from here you notice his bloody bruised hands. “ I’ll be taking these…” pocketing the 2 wands easily from this limp hand. “you filthy piece of sh-wait”
There peaking out his hat just a bit, reddish hair. It’s duller than you’ve ever seen, could it be?
But if he’s here, what happened to the other two?
“Ron?” Carefully removing the hat away, you lean to bet a closer look. “Bloody hell! Ron!” You swiftly reverse the spell.
Instantly Ron sat up pushing you away, wheezing.
“Hey hey hey…it’s alright.”
“Stay back!” Ron shouted, fist clenched. He knew he was wandless, defenseless but he isn’t going to back down without a fight. Especially since he just escaped the snatchers back in Diagon Alley. “How’d you know my name?”
“I… it’s me Ron. Y/N! y/n l/n from potions class. We were partners in 6th year!” You specified, having only been group partners for a term but apparently that was enough time for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.
Oh would it be a wretch to the heart if he didn’t remember you.
“Y/n?” Ron shook his head disbelieving. “No it can’t be. y/n has y/h/c colored hair, not this.” He gestured to your face.
Even in such a dark time, this boy could still make you laugh. An emotion you haven’t felt in a while.
“Seriously Weasley, there’s a thing called hair dye.” Offering him a hand. “Now come on, we can’t stay out, it isn’t safe. And please keep quiet.”
“Where are we going?” He asked loudly.
You glared at him, didn’t he process what you had just said?
He tried again, this time at barely a whisper.
“Home.”
~
“Here eat up, I bet you’re hungry.”
Placing a plate of hearty roasted chicken and mash potatoes leftover from lunch.
“Thanks y/n.” Earlier you had told Ron that he could clean up in the washroom while you prepare something to eat. “Mhmmmmm…” He moans, titling his head back with eyes closed enjoying the meal. “This is delicious, it’s great to eat real food again.”
You blush from the compliment. “Clothes!” Turning your attention to the pile on the stool, not wanting to be caught staring. “I got you a change of clothes.”
Your house didn’t have male clothes since it was you and your mother. So your shirt dresses and oversize shorts would have to do.
“Wow ahh… I appreciate the thought but I won’t be staying for long.”
“Oh” Why did you think that he would be staying? You internally scold yourself for letting it even cross your mind. “Alright, I just thought that…. You know what it’s not in my place to ask. And I totally understand that you can’t tell me anything.”
“No no no! It’s just I know you’re hiding and are safe here, but by me staying here would put a bigger target on your back.” Ron reasoned, trying to do some damage control, not wanting to end the night on a misunderstanding. “I don’t wanna put you in any more danger. I am a big walking liability.”
“Umm hmm I totally understand,” Deep down you genuinely understand where Ron is coming from and fall more for the young man because of it. “Let me at least have a look at your injuries before you go then…. For old times’ sake.”
Ron chuckled, recalling the past year- it seemed like a lifetime ago. One may say Ron is a clumsy guy- that he doesn’t deny, but in one particular term in 6th year, in a particular subject, his clumsiness was on another level.
Something always had to go wrong every potions class, he would either catch his sleeves on fire or have a magical concoction splash onto him.
This heightened accident prone Ron as much as he would like to blame external factors- can’t- it was all internal.
During potion class, Ron would have half his attention to studying and the other enamored by his intelligent, caring and beautiful seatmate, you.
Ron didn’t mind the multiple mishaps, in a way he actually preferred to have them as this meant you were tending to his injuries.
“Ah!”
“Sorry! Just one more.” You uttered, returning your focus to his broken knuckle. “Episkey.”
“Uhpppmm’ His face buried in his shoulder to muffle the sound.
“Alright, we’re done!” You announce, gently placing his hand back down onto his lap. “ I can’t do much to regrow your nails though….if only i had some more-”
“Hey hey hey.” He interjected, reaching over. “You did a great job y/n! You helped heal my injuries, I could barely stand my ground earlier.”
“Yeah but..”
“Yea these splinched nails?” He brought his left hand up, wiggling his fingers. “It makes me look like a rugged rebel, you know?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes.
“I thought you like bad boys,” He teased. Bumping your shoulders together. “You reckon I have a chance now?”
You choked on your own saliva. “What?” Your voice squeaking a pitch higher.
“Yea its bad timing, you know with the war going on and all. But I just thought ‘Ron you better shoot your shot’ like who knows what bloody crap is gonna happen in the future..What kind of gryffindor would I be if I won’t even try.”
“Oh Ron..”
Ron is on a roll, words he kept hidden for so long were fumbling out and there is no stopping it. “I could have asked you back in 6th year but I chickened out and all this shit happened. Now that I’m here with you. What are the chances that it was you that found me after my near death escape.You know how much i hate divination but this has to be a sign yea?”
“Ron….”
He raised his palm. “Please y/n. I need to get this off my chest, it’s been too long. It’s perfectly fine if you say no, but on the off chance that you do want to give this a go. That would be bloody brilliant.”
“So?” He prompted.
“Oh are you done? “ Faking disinterest.
“Yea!!”
“Well you told me to not interrupt!” You teased. “Yes.”
“I get it you don’t” Ron was deflated, he knew rejection was coming. All his life he was the second choice. The backup. If he ever was noticed to begin with. “–wait Wait YES??”
“Yes.”
“You’re not messing with me right? You better now me messing with me now y/n, I’ve had a rough couple of days and I–”
“Oh shut up you.” You grabbed both sides of his face and leaned forward effectively cutting him off mid sentence. Feeling his chapped lips partly open, frozen, processing what just happened
before recuperating with the same vigor.