2012
“Ugh, bloody hell,” Ron muttered under his breath, shaking his right hand that he had just hit against the kitchen counter.
“Bloody hell,” a small voice came from behind him.
Shit.
He turned around and saw his son beaming up at him, “bloody hell.”
“No no no, Hugo,” he rushed and scooped up his son, “we don’t say that, okay? It is a bad word.”
“Bloody Hell,” the toddler laughed back at him.
“Ron?”
Shit.
“Hermione, I swear it was an accident. I hit my hand and it just slipped out. I didn't know he was behind me.”
Ron was facing away from his wife, too afraid to turn around and be confronted by the look on her face. Hugo peeked over his shoulder and pointed at his mum, “Bloody Hell!”
“Hugo, mate, you’re not helping me here,” Ron whispered, but Hugo just giggled and wiggled out of his arms and ran out of the room still shouting ‘Bloody Hell’ and laughing.
Ron sighed and turned around slowly and was met with a stern look on Hermione's face. She had her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised waiting for him to say something.
“I’m so sorry, love.”
“Don’t ‘love’ me, Ronald.”
“‘Mione I swear I’m always careful around him now that he picks up everything we say. I didn’t see him.” He walked closer to her and carefully put his hands on her shoulders watching her closely in case he needed to dodge a hex.
“He’ll probably get bored of saying it by tonight,” Ron suggests.
“For your own sake, I hope he does.”
—
Ron was disappointed to find out that Hugo did in fact not get over saying it by the end of that day. Rose got so annoyed by her brother that she stuffed his mouth with her sandwich and left the table. As amusing as that scene might have been at the time when Hugo wasn’t getting tired of saying the words by the end of the week, Ron thought he might just lose it. He tried to tell him multiple times that it is not a nice word and that he can’t go around yelling it at strangers in the grocery store.
Just two days ago Ron had found himself apologising to a young mother because Hugo kept pointing at her newborn and saying ‘Bloody Hell’ over and over again. And when they went over to the Burrow yesterday, Hugo made sure to greet everyone by using Ron’s signature phrase which earned him a bunch of glares from his mother and too many stupid jokes from his siblings. By the end of the week, Ron was so over the phrase that he thought he might never use it again himself. At some point, he had even considered Hermione putting Hugo onto this to get him to stop saying it, but then he remembered he was present when Hugo learned about it.
“Ron, you have to talk to your son,” Hermione argued, standing next to him in the doorway from the kitchen into the living room.
“My son?”
“Yes, your son. You taught him this, now make him stop saying it.”
“Ugh fine,” Ron finally agreed.
He walked towards Hugo, who was sitting under the lit Christmas tree playing with one of his toy cars.
“Hey buddy, we need to talk,” Ron sat down in front of his son.
Hugo looked up at him and smiled, “okay.”
“Okay listen, about that new phrase you learned the other day,” Ron started.
“I’m sorry?”
Hermione snorted from the same spot they were standing at earlier, “No, not that one, honey. That’s actually a good one.”
“Right, as your mother said,” Ron continued, “that’s a good one. I’m talking about the one you overheard me saying in the kitchen a few days ago.”
“Bloody Hell?”
Ron sighed, “Yes, that one.”
“I like that one,” Hugo smiled, “it’s fun to say.”
“I know, mate, but we cannot go around saying it to everyone.”
“Why not?”
“Because as fun as it sounds, it’s not a nice thing to say?”
“But why is it fun then?”
Ron chuckled, “I don’t know, but do you hear me or mummy say it often?”
Hugo shook his head.
“That’s because it is kinda considered a curse word.”
Hugo’s jaw dropped, “no.”
“Yes,” Ron nodded.
Hugo stared at him in shock, mouth still open. Ron took his son’s chin in between two fingers and closed it, “And that’s why we can’t keep walking around saying it to everyone, okay?”
Hugo nodded looking down, “I didn’t know it was a curse word. Will I still get presents from Santa?”
“Of course, you will, you’ve been a good kid, right?”
He nodded.
“And you didn’t know it was a bad word?”
He nodded again.
“See,” Ron ruffled his hair, “nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks, daddy.”
“No worries, I’ll let you keep playing.”
Ron stood up and began walking back to Hermione motioning a thumbs up and mouthing ‘We are good,’ to her. Just as he was about to round the corner of the sofa he stubbed his toe and muttered, “Fuck.”
“Fuck?”