I don’t think my mum likes me very much. That doesn’t really matter because I don’t really like her either.
Our family isn’t perfect, far from it even. Especially if I must believe my mother…
Bill; born to two lovely people far too young to have to think about war and children. Gifted student turned prefect turned reckless curse breaker who ‘abandoned’ his family to work in Egypt. Typical eldest child; third parent to his siblings and crushed by all expectations.
Charlie; a second child born to a couple way in over their heads. The untempered character of the war integrated into his very being, despite his mother's loud opinions. The unruly hair translates to his unruly passion for dragons. He too left the nest too soon for his mother’s liking.
Percy; a third child born way before his parents could handle him. Clever and sharp, and clinging so desperately to the rules he is willing to follow them blind. Blindness and structure almost tricked him into muting his own heart.
Fred and George; carrying on the spirit of Fabian and Gideon. Both of them mischievous and cunning, looking further than their older brothers' path by abandoning school and creating their own name and fortune.
But if something whole loses half of what it is, will the remaining half ever feel a sense of being and belonging?
Ginny; the girl, dare I say child, my parents had always wanted. She too blowing them away by being everything they didn’t want or expect her to be. Standing her ground and being so brave as to wear her heart on her sleeve truly.
And then there’s me. Fitting perfectly in the line by not fitting at all. My parents’ first try at the girl they always wanted. They must’ve been so happy. Before I and my magic ruined it all for them. Early childhood is a blur I’m relieved I don’t remember, not that the rest is such a pink cloud.
My father was the first one that tried to understand me. He tried to reason with me even when Mum said I was just throwing a tantrum. He was the one to suggest calling me ‘Ron’ and he was the one that spent many days collecting muggle rubbish with me, just so I had an excuse to leave the house and be away from mum.
I don’t get why mum and dad ended up together. Maybe it was because of the first war, maybe because she got pregnant. I’m happy they stayed together though, even if we don’t have any money and they fight a lot more than they let on. I’m happy because my father truly is the glue that holds us together and I don’t think anything good would’ve happened if he had left after Bill was born.
I get that she wanted a girl, I really do, but as much as I hate it, I’m not one. I don’t understand why she can’t accept things like this. ‘If you don’t accept things you don’t understand, you’re going to spend your life questioning everything’, She always says this when talking about muggles, but I don’t get why she believes it only applies on a muggle’s views on magic and not her accepting her own son. She uses my name and refers to me by my preferred pronouns. It took her long enough but I’m grateful she does, even if it’s clear she doesn’t want to.
You would think she would love me nonetheless, maybe she does. It’s just that she could show it more. I wish I didn’t have to fight her just to be myself. And more deeply, I wish our family was as functional as we let on.
She wasn’t sad when I left for school the first time and was happy to leave me there for Christmas even though it was the first time ever away from home. I didn’t mind, because for the first time ever I had friends. The smartest witch to ever exist, Hermione, and the most gentle, pure and kind-hearted wizard, Harry.
The first years I tried to stay close to her, if you could even say we were close in the beginning. Seeing her letters to Ginny in my second year and comparing them to the letters she wrote to me, ruined it. The huge fuckup I pulled beginning of second year only made things worse. I know she couldn’t blame Harry for stealing my dad’s car, but sending me a howler saying I’m a disappointment who let down the family was going a bit far in my opinion.
Harry has always been her favourite even if he isn’t technically her son. I know he doesn’t have anyone else, but I couldn’t help but get a bit jealous. She already had six sons and a daughter but I guess we weren’t enough for her. I do think she could’ve at least tried to hide it a bit better.
I thought I should try harder to prove to her that I am worth loving. But even sacrificing myself and putting my life on the line more than once didn’t do the trick. In our third year I hoped that our trip to Egypt had made us closer as a family, but it didn’t last long after we came home. When I told her about the attack of Sirius Black on me and Scabbers that Halloween night, she responded by saying I should be making up stuff like that just because I was jealous of the attention Harry was getting. I didn’t speak to her for six months after that, I even burned the few letters I got.
She was so mad at me for fighting with Harry in our fourth year. She told me I couldn’t afford to fight with my best friend since he was the only one I had. She wasn’t necessarily wrong but imagine the person you trust with everything not only not trusting you but also lying to you. She’d be mad too.
She tells me that I don’t try. I do try, I have tried. At this point I had tried for fifteen years, but that didn’t work. Because I was still not good enough for her. By then I finally realized I never would be.
After fourth year I stopped caring as much about her opinion. I started following my own morals and not what my mum had fed me on a platter. I defended Harry when Voldemort was back even if it meant pissing off some people, which she taught us we should avoid at all costs. I was lucky that the twins and Ginny had my back at school and that Charlie and Bill where there for me when she suddenly did want me back home during the school breaks.
If there was one thing that would’ve made mum proud, it was becoming Prefect and Head Boy. I still don’t get why she was still disappointed in me after she realized it was me that was Prefect and not Harry. Honestly, I too was surprised, but there was no need to question out loud why someone would choose me to be Prefect.
After losing Sirius that year, all of us were worried for Harry. He finally had a way of connecting with his parents and their story. Losing that almost sent him over the edge. I just wished mum would’ve been there for everyone and not just Harry. Ginny and I were also badly injured. Taking care of each other that summer brought us a lot closer, but I’d say that was about the only positive thing that came out of all this.
In our sixth year Lavender Brown was interested in me. I’m a bit sad to say that going out with her was actually a way to boost my own fragile ego. Harry and Hermione started to feel distant again and to be honest, I think it would’ve killed me if I had lost them. Mum and I didn’t really speak, and if we did, we were shouting at each other. Being on the Quidditch team was awful. I enjoyed quidditch, I still do, but the pressure of everyone relying on me was killing me. I just wanted to make everyone proud. Still do.
When we were on the run looking for Horcruxes, I felt freer than I ever had. I think that being with the same two people for months on end in a tiny tent was dangerous for our friendship though. When I felt them being annoyed with me, I figured my mum was right. They were finally growing tired of me. She truly became that annoying little voice in my head. Unfortunately turning off that little voice was a lot harder than burning her letters or walking away.
I don’t know what came over me when I ran, but I regretted it immediately. I figured out that while I could survive on my own, I really wasn’t all that happy. I missed my friends. Even Dumbledore knew I wouldn’t be able to handle everything. I think that hurt the most.
When I saw mum again at the battle of Hogwarts there was almost a glimpse of relieve on her face. She seemed… glad that I wasn’t dead. I guessed that was the most I was going to get. When Fred died that day, I saw how much it destroyed her. I felt bad for being curious if she would be hurt as bad if it were me who died that day.
After Voldemort died, this sense of calmness washed over me. It freaked me out in the beginning, probably because it was so new to me. Some days I wonder if my youth would have been calmer and have lasted longer if I hadn’t been friends with Harry and Hermione. I think I would have had one or two more years of being able to just be a child, but in the end, the war would still have broken out. I don’t think I would be the person I am today if it wasn’t for them.
I still have a hard time at family get-togethers, but Hermione gets it and doesn’t mind it if I suddenly leave for an hour, just to get some alone time. Especially being with my mum for a long period of time still has its toll on me.
I don’t know how Hermione and me ended up together. All I know is that she helps me be a better person. She taught me patience and helps me communicate. She truly is the most brilliant and beautiful person I’ve ever known. Marrying her was the best thing to ever happen to me.
We’re expecting our second child in three months. And I’m truly proud to say I’m a decent dad. Hermione is brilliant, but that was to be expected. I am glad I’m able to say I’m a better parent that my mum ever was for me.