Chapter Text
Companion Piece: Ron's perspective
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Ron was a normal guy, you know?
Sure, he had a larger-than-life family, but that wasn't abnormal (not to Ron at least).
Growing up with Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, and Fred, as older brothers had been rough...
Bill was too responsible though he would occasionally let his hair down, (funny how, later on in life, he had too much of it). Percy was too stern, Charlie too wild. Then there were Fred and George who were just plain reckless. Amusing, dangerous, unreliable.
The roughhousing, the pranks, the gullible naivety that Ron really should've got over before eleven... (and didn't).
Ron still cringes at the time he'd tried to turn Peter Pettigrew yellow. (Well, Scabbers. But still!) He should've known it wouldn't work in the first place. Never trust the twins- how many times did he have too suffer before the lesson would sink in?
That was probably why he didn't involve them in all the antics in first year with Fluffy, and the stone, and Snape. Can't trust the twins.
Plus, Ron wanted to do it all on his own. Prove he was the brave Gryffindor and be the bestest best friend that he could be.
Maybe things would've been different if Ron hadn't felt he had to be so strong all the time, so stubborn, maybe he could've told his siblings about it and got a bit more support.
Because he knew deep down, they'd all be there for him.
They'd just give him hell for it first.
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Then there was his little sister, Ginny.
Bare in mind, he was very young when Ginny joined the family, so he didn't know anything any different. He wasn't the baby of the family, though mum occasionally babied him. Much to his avid protest.
Back when he was growing up there was no state-primary school, so he was home-schooled. His mum taught him everything as they couldn't afford a governess or tutor, like other purebloods.
But Ron, wasn't sore about that, he knew he had the best mum out of all the rest, so it worked out.
And while it would've been lonely, not going to any of the elitist parties or whatever...But with the family he had, he hardly had the need for any friends.
Fred and George would include him in his games, which would usually involve messing around with Percy's strategically placed things. Charlie would talk to him about the most amazing sport in the world: Quidditch.
And Bill would tell him things mum and dad wouldn't, partially because they were crude and some, because they were made up.
They'd all play in the fields surrounding their imperfect house, they'd laugh at Dad's muggle obsession, and they ate mum's mouth-wateringly delicious baked goods.
And whilst, Ron hated Ginny for constantly tailing them around, it made the little moments sweeter, though he will vehemently deny it until his dying days.
She was still annoying, he just liked having her there.
Then he watched all his siblings, one by one, (with the exception with the twins) disappear off to Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and one by one sorted into the noble house of Gryffindor.
It was intense.
Hearing through correspondence the exceptional greatness of the house and the school and most notably how much the other houses suck. Christmases, Easters, Summers, all spent talking about the glory of the only house worth being in.
It was daunting.
Each nearing year his eleventh birthday, Ron prayed he'd be sorted similarly. He didn't want to know what would become of him if he were not sorted into The 'Great' House.
Pressure began to build, as his brothers became Head of house and Prefects. And as the legacy became bigger and bigger with his brothers' achievements, as did the pressure.
Ron desperately hoped he could make his parents, his brothers, hell even his sister proud. Praying he could do that no matter which house he was sorted into... and hoped the fallout would not lead to another Wizarding War.
But it was fine.
Ron inevitably got placed into the brilliant, brave house of the Lion, as if that was predestined all along. Better yet, he was placed in a house with The Harry Potter. There was Neville Longbottom, to which he knew of thanks to his parents' close association with his, something about being incredible aurors and something about an order of some kind of adult thing that didn't make much sense and obviously not as cool or relevant to Ron's life as Quidditch.
When would the order of some bird ever be important to Ron's life, Right?
Though, he knew of Neville, his grandmother was quite stern about playdates so he didn't see much around. Then there was Seamus, who was a half-blood, but seemed alright, although a little wild. And finally, Dean Thomas who was muggle-born but he was alright too.
And of course, then came Hermione.
Who, unknowingly changed Ron's life from that first fateful day.
"She's a nightmare." He'd once said.
Nightmare.
Turned
Daydream,
became
fantasy,
then finally,
his reality.
Bit by bit, he fell in love. Another enevietablity perhaps, but one which he was grateful for. Where would he be without her? Rhetorically speaking, he'd either be dead or imprisoned. Harry and he were always act first, think later kind of people. They'd be lost without her. They were a trio, he'd cringe at 'golden' but something recognisable sure. Something else entirely. The trio.
The yule ball, he'd suppose was the start of it. The beginning of the end. When Hermione changed. She was always a part of the group, one of the lads, until...
That moment. She was a girl. A woman.
It was impossible, but seeing her, with fresh eyes at the ball, it was irrefutable. Hermione was a girl.
Just as pretty as the others. There he was in fourth year, fifteen years old surrounded by all these beautiful Beauxbaton students, and the heartbreaking Hogwarts girls that had seemed to flourish these past few years. Blossomed into something beautiful that made Ron's tongue tied and heart swell. But never, Hermione, he'd never felt that awkward, blushing rush, until...
Sixth year, it was almost impossible not to notice. Hermione was a force of nature, impassioned, unstoppable, dedicated, smart. She was everything. Even her skin seemed to distract, and Ron had been so stupid to jump into a relationship with Lavender but she was less complicated, less daunting than all that.
How stupid he had been.
But they overcame all that, all the jealousy and stupidity, and at long last, Hermione was his.
See the thing is, as wonderful as his family is, Hand-me-downs were the worst, and as the sixth in line to a very poor family, it was all Ron knew of.
But he wouldn't be sharing Hermione with anyone. Not that she was his property... er, she'd been pretty clear about the outdated notion. Not that Ron would even try to control her.
She was scary. Brilliant, but scary.
The point is that Hand-me-down's sucked, so Ron made sure that his first act of being an official 'adult' would be getting new clothes. A whole new wardrobe from scratch, his own clothes, his own stuff in general.
When he and 'Mione saved enough money, they moved into their own flat. It wasn't perfect, but it was his.
And he got into the auror workforce all on his own.
Not because he was Percy's little brother or Hermione's boyfriend, not evennbecause he is Harry Potter's best friend.
He stood on his own accomplishments for once, in a way he had never before.
It was liberating. Wonderful. His.
Sure, his grades had sucked in Eighth year, because between helping Hermione with her parents' memory loss and helping his own family recover from the loss of-...
Let's just say that year sucked. But he aced his TAEs (Theoretical Auror's Examinations), and the intense training, and formal technical challenges.
Eighth year was so weird.
Hermione hid in the library in a way that made her sixth-year self seem like a slacker.
She was there, from sunrise to sunset, midnight to midnight. He would force food into her, and drag her to bed once she exhausted herself to the point where she couldn't argue about sleep anymore.
Ron would do it time and time again, but it was exhausting.
He spent his weekends going to and fro between the Burrow and Australia Institute of Wizarding Care.
He, sadly, didn't have much time for Harry that year. It was just too crazy.
He wasn't surprised when Harry broke up with Ginny, but he was a little floored to find out his best mate of seven years was into guys.
It was just weird, is all, that he didn't know.
All those years.
He wished he'd known, he would've been more sensitive about it. Less aggressive with his heteronormative views, ya know? Talk about guys as well as chicks.
And maybe spend less time changing in front of him.
You know, out of respect.
(And cause s'a little weird now, retrospectively).
The guy shared a dormitory with four guys, must've been confusing for his best mate.
But Harry had resolutely promised that he has never, ever, ever, thought of Ron that way.
To some, it would be an insult, but Ron was just pleased beyond measure.
He didn't want to make things weird.
Well, weirder than dating their shared best friend.
Ron could live without a love triangle or...well, a creepy, hung-up, permanently attached, third wheel.
Upon Harry's 'coming out', Ron also made Harry swear that he didn't find Hermione attractive.
Which again was a little insulting, especially considering Hermione had been right next to them at the time.
But Ron had to make sure that there were never any other revelations in Harry's...preferences.
But no, Harry was just your regular bi-guy as he called it, which Ron... well, he didn't know much about it. But took Harry at his word.
Hermione had even bought him a supportive book, aptly named, "How to support my bi bestie" By Luc Tabit, Ron jokingly asked, whether there was a more specific category like:
'How to support my best friend of eight years who dated my sister, became Saviour of the wizarding world, then came out Bi' but Hermione was not as impressed as he was at his "smart-arsery" (her words).
"What about 'The Bi Saviour crises of the modern age'?" Ron asked.
That got a book thrown at his head.
"Queries for queers?"
That got a bigger book thrown at his head.
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His world turned upside down when Ginny came out and started dating Astoria Greengrass. Like, mind-melting. There are just some things a guy doesn't need to think about. He caught them fooling around at the Burrow's Halloween party one year, And that is the short answer as to why Ron never watches girl on girl anymore.
So yeah, Ron's a normal guy, with a lesbian sister, and a bi best mate, and a super supportive, independent girlfriend.
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When he decided to propose, he was suitably nervous. He needed all of Harry's support, he'd asked Bill and Fleur for beautiful ring designs, he even went to George about making a big scene, who came up with some crazy- potentially dangerous,-definitely disastrous- and mildly illegal- ideas.
Eventually, he settled for a candlelit dinner at a private restaurant, which was pricey and Hermione wasn't an idiot who believed that no one else turned up for dinner that night.
Ron decided on French cuisine as a homage to the summer trips she spent with her parents, who were thankfully on the mend and had fully blessed the engagement before this moment.
So, they both sat through a wreck of a starter and main before Ron plucked up the courage to ask the question they both knew was coming.
Ron bent the knee, which embarrassingly clicked on the way down, he was sweating copiously and opened the purple velvet box the wrong way around. He staggered his way through a thoroughly prepared speech he'd memorised before Hermione joyously answered.
That was that, engaged in November, married by the following May.
A quiet affair of intimate guests consisting of family, friends, and close colleagues. They allowed Luna to get the inside scoop of the wedding, so The Quibbler was the first paper to post the wedding announcement. And Hermione told Rita, rightfully, to "fuck right off". Which was quoted word for word in the Daily Prophet three days after the pictures were released in the Lovegood's newspapers.
Hermione was pleasantly smug for a week that they had once again gotten the best of her and the papers she represented.
Ron's wedding was a blissful affair, Hermione had chosen the colour scheme, flowers, and suits; So, naturally, everything was perfect.
And Ron just had to smile and say "I do".
And "certainly did not cry" as he ardently refuses, at every given opportunity.
Even with the photographic evidence. He just had something in his eye, when Hermione said her vows, that's all.
He'd even had 'allergies' when Harry gave the best man's speech about his first friend and the brightest, bossiest girl he'd ever had the pleasure of befriending. How they had found love in the toughest of times, and how they had stuck together through the worst with him. He spoke of loyalty and their years of arguing, and their fierce love for each other.
Harry had finished saying that he could not imagine a happier man than he, over their union.
(Except maybe the groom, despite his "tablespoon sized emotional range").
So Ron was just a regular guy, with the most perfect wife, and the craziest family. And the bestest friend.
He was a regular guy with some incredible luck.
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He was almost waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which it did, a month or two before the wedding, Harry had brought Malfoy to the Burrow.
Malfoy! Of all people!
He'd heard Harry moan on about the guy for ten months now.
At first, he assumed the hospital just gave Harry a lot of drugs which made him loopy afterwards, as Harry versed sonnets over the colour of the guy's eyes and waxed poetic over how pretty he is now.
Then a few weeks later when Harry was still babbling about him, Ron had naturally assumed that Harry was grateful that the git saved his life a couple of times.
But as the months droned on, Ron had started to suspect some sort of love potion. He snuck the antidote into Harry's mug at work, who guzzled the coffee down. Ron assumed he was in the clear.
The lovesick jabbering ceased and Ron felt pretty proud he'd stopped the potion before adverse side effects settled in.
But then Harry went weirdly quiet about the prat, muttering something about Malfoy was no longer his healer. Thank Godric. Ron had presumed that Malfoy had slipped him the amortentia in the first place, so he was pleased that Harry'd finally moved on.
At least, that's what Ron thought had happened.
But bizarrely, Harry then began to miss Friday night drinks with the crew and then started to get weirdly busy on Wednesdays and Saturdays too.
Harry had even begun to dress differently, smarter, and he started to comb his hair and trim his beard. When confronted, Harry claimed that he just wanted a 'change is all'. Which Ron reluctantly accepted. The guy shouldn't be grilled over a new haircut, or some low-hanging jeans.
But when he started using words like, "Efficacious" to describe cases and how he was "indisposed", Ron was disturbed.
Perhaps the potion had fucked more with Harry's mind than he realised and Ron hadn't treated it properly.
Ron had spent sleepless nights hypothesising with Hermione about what was wrong with their best friend.
But Ron never considered this!
"Malfoy, you've got to be shitting me!" He yelled when he'd dragged Harry aware from the smarmy git.
Harry winced, "I knew you'd be upset..."
"Upset? I'm livid. This is Malfoy for fuck's sake."
"His name is Draco. And he's my boyfriend for fucking fuck's sake."
Hermione had to step in before the expletives were in the triples.
Ron couldn't understand what his fiance was doing, he began yelling at her too, regrettably.
He was just too worked up that of all the pillocks that Harry could've chosen to sleep with, he'd chosen his arch-nemesis.
Ron then started rambling about how he's dangerous anout abi the love potion he'd cured a while back. To which, Draco smirked.
That was practically a confession.
Ron had half a mind to lock him up But Hermione interjected.
The gist of it was that if Harry could forgive Draco, then she could too, for the sake of Harry's happiness.
And that's when Ron saw it; The bigger picture.
There was never a love potion, He was just oblivious to see it. His best mate falling in love. And Harry had gone quiet because he could tell he was upsetting Ron, then kept it quiet for months as he became romantically involved with Malfoy, he wanted to make sure it was serious before telling everyone.
"I love him" he said, resolutely.
And Salazar, that was all Ron needed to know.
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It was difficult. Getting over the years of torment but Mal-Draco apologised for the harm he caused and promised that he no longer felt that way about any of it.
Later once Draco learned about Harry's childhood, Malfoy began thanking him for being such a loyal and supportive friend. That's when Ron really put the past behind him. He could see that the Slytherin was genuine and his affections were true.
Over the weeks, Ron saw his best mate fall in love with the ferrety git, and so when his best man asked him for a plus one? What could he do but agree?
The smile Harry had was huge and he wore it for the whole month in preparation for the wedding, then during the honeymoon, and the week after, and on and on for years.
Ron watched as his mum, his brother, and his kids all accepted Draco for who he is, not who he was. And thanked him for the spark he lit inside of Harry. Teddy adjusted happily to the two-parent lifestyle and was better for it, having Draco look after the both of them and give them the childhood they never had, without spoiling them like he was.
Over time, Ron started to think of Draco as another brother, one who was reliable and resourceful and yes, cunning.
He helped out around the house when Hermione had Rosy and answered their prenatal questions with patience, he came by to help fix things and bake things.
He was a wonderful addition to his big family, indeed.
And just like his brothers, Ron knew that Malfoy would be there for him.
He'd just give him a little hell first.
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"I'm going to propose to Harry,"
Ron nearly choked on his sandwich.
"What?" He spluttered crumbs onto his desk.
"Do need me to repeat or are you being fastidious?"
"Dude. You want to propose to Harry?"
"That is what I said, isn't it?"
"Don't be a prat."
"Where's the fun, in that?" He grinned.
"So, will you give me your blessing?"
"wHaT?" Ron said, inhaling and choking on his fries.
"Normally, I'd go to his father, which obviously I can't do."
"But I've thought a lot about this, and I've decided that it's you, not Molly, who I need permission from. You are the closest thing to kin Harry has, he trusts you implicitly and thus, it is you who I need to ask. "
"er..." Ron wasn't certain what to do, there wasn't exactly a book on this. If there were, Hermione would have read it and gave Ron the cliftnotes. She's thoughtful like that.
"Look. About the other thing"
"You mean asking Harry to marry me?" He said, perching on Ron's messy desk.
"Yeah, that.. I don't think..."
"You don't?" Draco teased. "I'd never have guessed."
"Look what I'm saying is, I don't think that it's a good idea."
"Whyever not.It's an excellent idea."
"I..."
"Do you think Harry'd refuse?"
"No!"
"Do you think I'd harm Harry in anyway?"
"No."
Draco withdrew into himself.
"Do you not trust me? Is this about my reputation?"
"No. No. Draco, you're fine. Great even. And a fantastic healer. it's just..."
"You don't think I'm right for Harry?"
Salazar. What is Ron supposed to do?
Let him think that Ron doesn't trust Malfoy and value his relationship with him, or worse, ruin things with Harry.
Or spill the beans and let him know...
"I'm sorry for wasting your time," Draco said, turning to leave.
"Wait. Malfoy." Ron had to say something. He hoped that Harry'd forgive him. "I need you to listen very closely."
"I should- I should go." Draco's hand was on the door of his office.
"No. Listen." Ron stood up, knocking the table with his knee, and the sound of clattering, as things tumbled off the edge of his desk. And spilling mountains of paperwork onto the floor in the process.
"You" Ron panted, hand on Draco's depressed shoulder, "should definitely not propose to Harry, got it?"
"Enough Weasley, I'm sorry you think so low of me." Draco said, shaking Ron's hand off of him.
"You're not hearing me." Ron then forcefully turned Draco around to face him. "You- Draco- should not propose. Draco."
"What are you blithering on about?" Draco raised his glistening eyes up, Ron was only four inches or so taller than Draco anyhow.
Ron tried to be diplomatic about this.
"Your plans Draco. They could...mess things up. Confuse things. right now. And as Harry's best friend, I know that He -Harry- does not want you- Draco- to propose. Do you understand?"
"Your saying-?" The blond's face lit up.
"I cannot say anything, as Harry's best man-" Ron emphasised deliberately, "I mean, friend, I can't say anything to you. But I do know for a fact that Harry does not want YOU to propose TO Harry."
"I see."
"Do you understand, why I cannot give you my blessing, as much as I want to?"
"I believe I understand."
"Good, because if things were different. I would tell you that you are one of the best men I know, and that Harry would be lucky to have you as a husband... I would tell you how inspiring you are for changing your life around and how much you help and heal others. That I would have absolutely no problem with Harry spending the rest of his life with you."
"Wow. Ron, I-"
"But sadly." Ron tsked.
"You can't say anything." Draco finished for him. "What a shame. I guess this was a waste of time."
"Hey, Dray, before you go?"
"Yeah?"
"I think maybe you should wear a suit or something this weekend. Might, er, be cold on the seafront."
Draco beamed.
"This.. this weekend?"
"Just an idea." Ron winked.
He's the best friend ever, and he'll be an amazing best man too.
Oh, but if only he knew if Malfoy would even say yes...
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