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The sky was stormy as Ron eventually found a place to stop. He sighed and sat down on a broken tree stump to process and reflect. How had it all gone so wrong? He had known that finding the horcruxes wouldn’t be simple, but to know that they were not only partaking in what was essentially a wild goose chase, but that currently, they had no way to destroy the cursed objects? Ron would never admit it, but that revelation had drained his hope away, and in turn, his trust in Harry.
Hermione, he had wished would’ve backed him up, had instead abandoned him for Harry. And that had torn him up. It was just another thing that Harry had that he didn’t. Ron didn’t know where the jealousy had come from. He just noticed it one day and couldn’t remember when it had started. Or perhaps it was always there; residing in the back of his mind, only to fester and grow as he got older. As one of seven children, and the second youngest at that, he supposed it really just came with the territory. All of his older siblings had made a name for themselves. Percy worked in the Ministry. Charlie worked with dragons. Fred and George had opened a positively thriving joke and prank shop. It was partially in thanks to Harry, but that was irrelevant. Even Ginny had earned their mother’s favor, and she hadn’t even needed to try. Her birth was enough.
The Weasley Matron had been wanting a girl for years. And once Ginny had been born, Ron’s mum and dad had stopped having children. Sure, his mum was getting up there in age, as was his dad, but he couldn’t help but feel like it was solely because of Ginny turning out to be a girl. And that made him feel like a bit of a disappointment. Especially when Ginny was only one year younger than Ron. He didn’t doubt his mum loved him, but that feeling of not measuring up to the rest of his family persisted.
Ron began unpacking, letting his thoughts run their course. However, two things in his sack had him paused. Two small pentagonal cards. He pulled the first chocolate frog card out and stared at it. It was his most prized possession and one of the only things he had taken with him from his home. As the small chubby-faced artistic representation of his best friend as a baby smiled up at him, the iconic scar glaringly present from the drawing’s forehead, his thoughts turned to the real him. His insecurity had seemed to lessen somewhat when he became friends with Harry Potter, child celebrity and wizarding world savior.
It wasn’t the initial reason they became friends; no they had bonded that first year and the few after over their adventures and generally similar view of the world. But as they got older, and those views and opinions changed and shifted, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t worried about going back to being a nobody, even among his family. As they got older, it seemed they fought more. And as daft as he may be, Ron wasn’t blind. He knew that he, himself was a large part of the problem. But damn it, if he couldn’t help the envy that rose up in him every time something good happened for Harry. No, most of what happened to Harry wasn’t good. He had to hold in a wince every time he thought of his actions the year of the tournament. And Harry losing his parents, and then Sirius Black was awful. His heart had ached for his friend then, and he had wanted nothing more than to relieve Harry of such pain. But then when Ron ever thought about what Harry did have.
He had money and fame, an ancient and noble family name, and talent…
That had him considering though. Yeah, Harry had those things in strides, but he also remembered everything else Harry did or didn’t have that he didn’t have to worry about to such a degree if only because he associated himself with Harry Potter. He reached for the second card in the sack. On it were two smiling faces, one of only two different cards that a wizard couple shared, the other being of Neville’s parents for their sacrifice the night of Voldemort’s first demise. One was a red haired, green eyed witch with a wide, but soft smile, and the other was a smirking wizard that held a striking resemblance to his best friend. The card had been created shortly after their deaths and when Ron had finally managed to acquire a copy, having to search high and low for one, he had planned to give it to Harry as a gift. After all, buying sweets was one of the first things Harry had done for Ron out of the goodness of his own heart, and he had never actually known his parents. But then stuff got in the way, and the thought had truthfully slipped Ron’s mind. Now, he wished he had. Because not having parents was only a sliver of the grievances Harry has had to endure in his short life.
Harry had daily nightmares that had left him screaming and in agony, and he had flashbacks and the occasional panic attack of all the shite he had been through. He never did have a normal school year, despite him expressing to Ron every year that he wanted it more than almost anything. He constantly had public eyes on him and anything he did would have the population of Wizarding Britain against him faster than he could cast a spell. He couldn’t forget how badly the students had treated him— he and Hermione included— when he spoke parseltongue or when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin, or when everyone thought he had put his name in the Goblet of Fire despite his repeated swears and promises that he hadn’t. Ron hadn’t believed him at first, but watching the first trial with dragons was terrifying. He had decided after, that he still cared about Harry, and would rather stay his friend and hopefully help keep him alive and support him. And then the third trial, and the following school year had happened. And so much injustice had befallen his friend, he had promised himself he wouldn’t turn on his friend again. But yet here he was, repeating his past mistakes again. Ron’s breath hitched as the stress and bottled emotions he’d been ignoring came to the surface. Suddenly all of it came up his throat and out as he began sobbing.
He grasped those little cards tightly as if they’d disappear if he didn’t and brought that same hand up to his face as he stared at the trees around him but not taking them in. His chest felt tight and his whole body trembled as he struggled to keep in his emotions. His efforts were partially in vain as a couple tears escaped on their own volition. How could he be so awful to his best friend? He knew that wearing the horcrux brought out his worst and yet he refused to give it up more, wallowing in his own negative thoughts and those same insecurities that had haunted him his whole life. Here Harry was, with hundreds of enemies who all wanted him tortured or dead, and an incredible burden that only he could carry and overcome. But he had taken Ron back as a friend even though he had basically spat Harry’s kindness back at his friend. And how did he repay him? By stabbing him in the back once more. Knowing he didn’t deserve Harry’s forgiveness, he wept desperately clinging to the first thing that drew him to admire Harry, and the one of the few things that Ron wanted to give Harry most. He may have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, but even he knew how much it would mean to Harry to have something that commemorated his parents’ sacrifice.
Feeling utterly spent emotionally, he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. Ron had more than a few things to make up for. But first, he needed to find his friends again. A newfound determination filling him, he stood up and began to trek back the way he came.
———————
It was Harry and Neville’s birthday. It was the first one since Voldemort’s death and they hadn’t really gotten together to just enjoy each other’s company yet. Therefore, when the idea to invite Harry, Hermione and the rest of their friends and acquaintances to the Burrow to celebrate, he didn’t hesitate. The house was more than a little crowded, but it was something Ron had come to enjoy. Sure, having peace and quiet was nice. But having such a rowdy, noisy house invoked a sense of nostalgia and it just felt good and warm. There was some grief, nobody was truly moved on from the deaths of not just Fred, but Remus, Tonks, and many others, but the general mood was happiness, with just a touch of relief that they could finally enjoy a special occasion without the fear of Death Eaters or Voldemort.
After they had enjoyed a spread of desserts, including several cakes, treacle tarts as they were Harry’s favorite, cookies, and various other pastries, they moved to the large pile of gifts. Ron’s gift for Harry wasn’t in the stack however. He wanted it to be more private. Though, seeing all the amazing presents Harry received, he began to doubt his own. After all, Harry may already have the card he was going to give him. Merlin, he hoped not. Though he had gotten Harry another gift just in case, that one already up next to be opened in the pile, this one was supposed to be special. There was more to it than just the card as well, but he still couldn’t help but worry.
Finally, Harry and Neville had opened the last of the gifts and were exchanging pleasantries and gratitudes with the gathered crowd. He gathered that Gryffindor courage their house was known for and approached his best and first friend. Hermione gave him a knowing smirk. She had helped him put it all together after all.
“Hey Harry, can we talk?” He asked. The grin Harry had, immediately dropped in concern. He nodded and stood up to follow Ron out of the room. Once they were a little distance away from the loud sitting room, Ron cast a silencing charm. It wasn’t really necessary, but he did it anyway for the benefit of his friend.
“Is something wrong?” Harry inquired.
“No, no! I just wanted to talk and give you my other gift for you and I didn’t know if you’d want to receive it in front of the others.” Now his best mate’s expression became one of undeniable curiosity.
“Oh. Well you didn’t have to do that Ron.”
“Yes, actually I did. This gift, I did. I want to. Look,” he paused to gather his thoughts, “I… I don’t think I’ve ever correctly expressed how much our friendship means to me. I know I’ve been a really awful friend, and I don’t think I could ever make it up to you. Before I met you, I always felt like an outsider in my own family. I love my family, but it always seemed like I couldn’t get out of the shadows of my brothers, and my mum always wanted a girl, so she was instantly hooked on Ginny. But when I met you, and we became friends, it gave me a sense of worth. That even if my family ignored me or thought I was a disappointment, I’d always have you. And I’ve been so horrible to you. And well… I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re my best friend. In fact, you’re more than my best friend. If you’ll have me, you’re family in my eyes. And I know the rest of the Weasley’s feel the same way.” He lowered his head, staring at the heavy, colorfully wrapped box he had grabbed in the midst of his words.
“Of course, Ron. You know, I forgave you months ago.” He said, a hint of laughter leaving him before he turned serious again. “Also, you know your family doesn’t think you’re a disappointment. I don’t either, and I know Hermione doesn’t. Sure, we’ve had our spats, but I took you back every time because I knew you were going through some things.”
“Yeah, I know. But still. I wanted a chance to atone for my mistakes and for being an arse at least somewhat. So, here.” He said and held out the parcel. Harry grabbed it and began unwrapping it. Inside was a fairly large and thick tome. Harry looked up at him.
“Wow Ron, Hermione is really getting to you isn’t she?” He jest good-naturedly.
“Just open it.” He laughed with Harry.
His friend opened the cover and immediately gasped. There on the first page, was none other than the little chocolate frog card of James Potter and Lily Evans. They both had grins as they embraced each other, the enchanted photo moving as the two laughed at some joke only they knew about from the day that picture was taken. Above it were the words “The Family you lost…”
“I had found that a year or so ago and had meant to give it to you, but well… last year happened and I just never got the chance to until now. I hoped maybe it would help you as much as it did me. That card reminded me— when we split up— of all the things I had that I’d taken for granted. Of the family I would’ve been abandoning had I given up.” Ron swallowed thickly. “And it also reminded me of what you’d lost in the war.” He gestured at Harry, who’s eyes begun to get a little red and misty. He turned the page and saw a plethora of pictures, some even with him as a baby, letters, and even a few newspaper articles of his parents. Things he had never seen before, not even in the scrapbook Hagrid had given him.
“Where,” he paused as his voice came out hoarse and nasally. He cleared his throat and sniffed before continuing. “Where did you get these?”
“I had some help from Hermione, but mostly from McGonagall. We also got some things from Remus, Sirius, other members of the Order, and the articles we gathered from the archives of the Prophet and a few other newspapers. Keep going.” He prompted.
Harry turned a few more pages, and when he reached the next, much larger section of the book, he chocked back a cry. There was a photo in the middle of the page. It had the entire Weasley family, Remus and Tonks, Sirius, and Hermione along with Harry. It must have been taken at 12 Grimmauld Place during Christmas a few years back as there was a tree with lights and decorations everywhere. Everyone was laughing and smiling, or enjoying each other’s company. Below it was a smaller picture of Teddy taken not long after he was born. There was even a picture of Dobby who wiggled his ears excitedly up at him, and one of the Order. Dumbledore had the twinkle in his eyes, as Snape was sat next to him scowling, no doubt at something the former Headmaster had said. Remus and Sirius were hugging as if they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Moody, Tonks and Kingsley were in the middle of back and forth banter. Even McGonagall and Hagrid, and Arthur and Molly present, chatting merrily away. And above there were the words.
“…and the Friends and Family you found...”
Harry couldn’t contain himself as he turned a page, and then another. Hungrily taking in the memories of the past frozen in time on the pages. A steady flow of tears were streaming down his cheeks. He stopped on one page that had a photo of him, Sirius, and Remus. If he didn’t know better, he could almost imagine that it was rather James, Sirius, and Remus smiling up at him. A page after had a picture of Dobby and Harry hugging. Kind, amazing Dobby who had also found a family and companion in Harry. He remembered it. Sirius had died not long before and Dobby had offered him some comfort as he was grieving. A picture just above it was one of Fred and George as they were pulling off another prank. He chuckled wetly as the butt of their joke, Ron, walked right into it unknowingly.
Another photo two pages after was of Ron and him sometime at the Yule Ball and then another of them and Hermione at a Quidditch game. They were much younger then, and Harry was the only one dressed in his sports gear while they were on the field. The next page had Harry, Ron, and Hermione their first year at Hogwarts, and then on the next page, one of them their sixth before they decided to go horcrux hunting. He glanced back and forth between the two pictures. So much history and change had happened between them.
Underneath that was a picture of Hogwarts from the lake. It was the view they got their first year when they had first seen the castle, it’s great spires towering over the land to meet the sky. He was suddenly struck with a bout of distress at not wanting to go back to Hogwarts for their final year. It was the first place he had ever truly called home. He knew why he had decided not to. Quite frankly, he don’t think he could stomach it. But it still saddened him.
The next page held the words, “…and the Family you will gain.”
Every page after that was blank, each awaiting a new addition. A grateful smile graced Harry’s features as he closed the book. He finally looked at Ron. He found that a few others had trickled into the room. Hermione stood holding Ron’s hand, and standing next to him was Molly, Arthur and the remaining Weasley siblings.
“We all had a hand in it. Sirius and Remus did too.” Molly explained. “But after the Tournament, it was originally Ron’s idea and he was the one who led the effort in finding and gathering the pictures.” Ron blushed darkly but nodded his confirmation. Harry gently set the book down and stood up from the chair he had collapsed into. He faced his friend.
“Thank you, Ron.”
“Oh, it’s nothing really-,” Ron began but was cut off with a muffled oof as the shorter teen gripped him tightly in a hug. After a moment, Ron returned the hug just as fiercely. When Harry pulled away, he turned to the other room’s occupants.
“Thank you all so much. It means so much.” He sniffled. Molly came forward and initiated another hug.
“It’s really no problem. Like Ron and the book said, you’re a part of this family now, just as much as any of my boys or Ginny and Hermione are. “We’d be happy to have you, if you want us too.”
Harry nodded enthusiastically. A proper family sounded great, even if it wasn’t by blood. He’d never forget his parents, or Sirius and Remus. But he had finally found a family that wanted him and was there to stay and really, that was more than enough for him for now.