August, 1988
Ron Weasley was never one to be a trouble maker. Maybe it was because he had two older twin brothers who did all of the work for him, or maybe it was because there was so much going on in his house everyday that sometimes he felt like there was no room for him, but really he was never one to cause issues. Percy would commend him on this sometimes, and then stalk off to read his next Hogwarts textbook, and Charlie would laugh about how the “trouble gene” skipped over Percy and Ron and went right to the twins and Ginny, but when it came to Ron’s mum and dad, it seemed like they were just relieved that they didn’t have to fuss with him so much.
And for awhile, this was alright with Ron. During those summer days when Bill, Charlie, and Percy were home from school, he would wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, play quidditch all morning with Bill, Charlie, and the twins (until they decided they wanted to play two on two and made him leave) and then go inside and do something with Ginny until dinner time. Ron liked Ginny as much as any older brother would like his younger sister, but he wished that he was older than Fred and George so that one of them would get kicked out of the game instead of him. Maybe one day when he had his own friends at Hogwarts they would let him join.
One night after dinner, an hour after Ron’s mum made him wash up and get into bed, he woke up to the familiar sound of his mum and dads bickering downstairs. Being as quiet as a mouse (or maybe Percy’s rat, Scabbers) Ron creeped out of bed and started the long decent down the 4 floors of stairs to the living room where his parents were talking.
“I don’t know how we’re going to do Arthur, I just don’t!” His mum whispered harshly, “even using Percy’s old things, we still have to buy a completely new set of books for George! And that’s not to mention the four new books for Defense Against the Dark Arts!”
“I know, Molly, I know but what can we do? Maybe Fred and George can share books, I mean it’s not like they’re going to spend a lot of time reading them anyway…”
“And what a great example that is setting, Arthur!” His mum fired back, and for a moment the only noise being heard was both of their breathing.
Ron heard his dad take a deep breath and then say, “I know it’s going to be tough. But when we decided to have Ron and Ginny we knew how hard it would be…”
He heard a quiet sob, before he heard his mum whisper, “Maybe we made a mistake. I mean, we thought for sure Ron would be a girl…”
“Oh Molly, don’t say that. Please don’t say that. We will figure it out okay? And anyway…”
But Ron wasn’t listening anymore. He felt his hands shaking a bit as he ran back upstairs and quiet as possible back up to his room on the top floor.
Leaning against his bedroom door, Ron couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Of course they wanted a girl, that Ron knew. After five sons why wouldn’t you? But hearing the confirmation made it all worse. Would his mum be happier if they had skipped Ron and went right to Ginny? Who was Ron anyway? Bill was head boy last year in his final year at Hogwarts, Charlie was just made quidditch captain, Percy was a pompous prat but he was well on his way to being a perfect as well. And then there were Fred and George, who were trouble makers but still quite clever, and then there was Ginny. Not only was Ginny the girl, but she was also funny and smart naturally. And then there was Ron. Who was he?
As Ron leaned against his door, he tried and tried to think of one thing he could do that one of his siblings couldn’t. He was quite good at chess, but so was Bill. He was alright at quidditch, but besides Percy and Ginny he was the worst in his family. He supposed he could be funny sometimes, but basically all Fred and George did was make people laugh. And yes, he did do well at math and english lessons from his mum, but Ginny was a year younger than him and basically at the same level.
Feeling dejected, Ron stood back up and walked over to his bed, climbing into it and pulling the blanket up to this chin. Now, feeling a surge of frustration and anger, Ron’s thoughts began to get even faster.
What if he just left? Tomorrow, while everyone was either outside or Percy was in his room, what if he just left? He could pack his rucksack, catch a train to London, and then live off stealing food from muggles until he turned 11 and got to go to Hogwarts. Would they even miss him. Blimey, would they even notice he was gone? That thought alone strengthened Ron’s resolve. Yes, tomorrow he would run away. Ron continued to sniff and shiver until he fell asleep.
The next day, Ron was awoken by the sun coming into his window. Nervousness and anticipation rushed through him as he thought about his plan.
Walking down the stairs, he was surprised to see that he was the last one awake. Usually that award went to George, who routinely slept though breakfast. This morning, though, all heads turn to him as he entered the kitchen. For some reason, Ron felt his ears go pink.
“Morning, sleepy head!“ Ron’s dad smiled at him, rubbing his head and causing his hair to go askew.
“Morning, Dad,” Ron mumbled, unable to look him in the eye. Ron’s mum came up and placed his plate in front of him, and then fixed his hair back from where his dad messed it up.
“Want to play Keeper today, Ron?” Charlie asked, already on his second helping of eggs.
“Er- no thanks,” Ron replied, feeling startled, “I’m not feeling too well today.”
At this, Ron’s mum got up from her chair, and placed her hand on his head, “Oh my, you do feel warm! Back up to bed, dear, just take your plate with you,” his mum then patted his cheek and sent him on his way back up the stairs. Feeling relieved that his plan was still motion, Ron hastily put his still full plate on his dresser and went to pack his back. He took five minutes to pack his bag, then five minutes to eat, and so on. By the time his bag was full and his plate was empty, he could hear the sounds of his siblings playing quidditch. To Ron’s relief, he saw that Ginny was out watching his four brothers. Figuring that Percy was in his room and his dad was at work, sneaking past his mum was the only option. Tip toeing down the stairs, he spotted his mum humming, wiping the table as the dishes did themselves in the sink. Once her back was turned, Ron ran to the still open front door and out into the front yard.
Ron smiled as he made it to the main road. He really got away without anyone noticing? His mum probably wouldn’t check on him until later, and by that time they probably would be too tired to look for him. And by the next day he would be in London! As Ron got further down the road, however, worry began to creep in. He found 3 sickles in his dresser, but that was all the money he had. He would have to find money or even steal money to get to London. And his shoes, whose soles were already half way off and his big toe on his right foot was one stitch away from poking out, would not last to the train station. Feeling dejected, Ron found the nearest tree and climbed to the top. That was something else he was good at, tree climbing. But of course Bill was good too. It was Ron, who helped Bill build his tree house 3 years ago. Of course, being 5 years old, he couldn’t help much. But Bill let him participate as much as possible.
Ron decided that waiting until tomorrow to get on the train was the best option. He was already half way there, so maybe taking two shorter trips instead of one long trip would save his shoes. Ron read his Chudley Cannons magazine until it got too dark to see. He remembered the spell, lumos, but of course was too young to have a wand and perform magic. How was he going to afford a wand before he went to Hogwarts? Maybe he could learn-
“RON! RON! RON, WHERE ARE YOU?” He heard a voice yell, and then another voice much further away, “RON! ARE YOU HERE?”
Ron instinctively recognized the first voice as his dad and the second voice as Bill’s. A part of him thought that maybe he should hide, but the much bigger part of him realized he had never heard terror in his dads voice like he heard just now. Not even when Charlie broke his leg after falling of his broom.
Ron jumped down from the tree, and to both their surprises, almost landed right on top of his dad.
“Ron! Ron, where were you??” His dad exclaimed, his shoulders sinking down in clear relief.
“I- I went for a walk,” Ron said back, and accepted the fact that he was going to have to leave his rucksack up in the tree until he could come back and get it.
“A walk? A walk 3 miles from home? What were you thinking? Your mother is beside her self with worry, we all were!” His father said, gripping both his shoulders and looking down at him.
Ron felt shame come over him and hung his head, “sorry, Dad.”
“Well you’re going to be really sorry when you mum gets ahold of you, that’s for sure. Come on, now” his Dad replied, his face still pale but getting some color back.
Ron’s right shoe did completely break on the walk back to The Burrow, but for some reason he felt better about it now.
February, 1998
Ron shivered as the cold went through him. Hermione was on watch, and he had given her all his blankets. That just left him with one lousy Weasley jumper to keep him warm, but he didn’t mind the pain. It helped him remember he was still alive. Ron glanced over at Harry, who, per usual, was starting intently at his snitch and putting it against his mouth. Ron didn’t have to pretend to agree with Hermione about the Hallows vs. the Horcruxes. Harry’s obsession had went from being annoying to being concerning. Unable to stand being in Harry’s presence any longer, Ron grabbed gloves and a hat from his rucksack and made his way outside.
Hermione was still very angry at Ron, that was for sure. Before he left, they would constantly have conversations that didn’t involve Harry or You-Know-Who. That was something that was always special between the two of them. With Harry, the conversation was almost always about the dire situations he somehow always seemed to land himself in, which was not his fault at all, but Ron found that when he was with Hermione it was much easier to feel like a normal teenager.
But now that she was angry with him, the most talking they did was trying to decide what to do about Harry. Which is why, walking up to the fallen tree that Hermione was sitting on now, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.
Hermione looked up at him as he approached her, but she didn’t smile.
“Can I sit?” Ron asked, pointing to a part of the tree that was more than two feet from Hermione was sitting.
Hermione nodded, and absent mindedly played with a strand of her hair.
Ron, struggling with what to say, but knowing that saying “sorry” for the 100th time wouldn’t do him any good, decided to go for a different route.
“Did I ever tell you that I ran away when I was eight?“ Ron asked, turning his head to face Hermione.
Hermione shook her head, but kept her gaze facing the ground.
“I overheard my mum and dad fighting about money after I was supposed to be in bed. My mum said something about having one too many kids, and I was so upset. I decided to run away the next day,” Ron stopped for a moment, smiling at the memory.
“I got a couple miles away from home before realizing I had no money and no way of taking care of myself. I sat in a tree until my dad came and found me. I had never seen him so terrified before. And I didn’t see it again until Ginny got stuck down in the Chamber of Secrets,” Ron snuck a glance and Hermione and saw her unchanged, and assumed, or well, hoped, she was still listening.
“I should have learned the first time, haven’t I?” Ron finally said, and Hermione finally turned her head to look at him.
“I know I messed up Hermione. I don’t expect you to believe me, but that locket affected me more than you or Harry. I know-“ he broke off, “I know I’ve ruined whatever we had between us-“ Ron took a deep breath and tried to stop his heart from beating so loudly. Ron realized, with horror, that this was the first time either of them had ever spoke out loud about the “thing” going on between him and Hermione for quite some time. Hermione quickly looked down back at her shoes, and Ron saw that her hands were trembling.
Ron, with a new wave of humiliation coming over him, felt his face become beat red. He quickly realized that he had misread the entire situation and now he had completely ruined the final threads of friendship that were still holding on. Getting ready to go lay in his bunk in shame, he got up to leave, when a small unsteady voice said, “where are you going?“
“Oh,” Ron responded, turning back to face Hermione. This time, she was looking right into his eyes, her cheeks slightly pink. Ron again realized, with a swoop in his chest, just how beautiful Hermione was. It had been weeks since she had really looked at him right in the eyes, and he was reminded of waking up in the hospital wing on his 17th birthday to see Hermione smile at him for the first time in months. “I was just going to get- but I guess I can stay out here,” he responded, sitting back down, this time sitting even further away from her.
Hermione, who now was continuing to look at Ron, furrowed her eyebrows as she eyed the space between them. Then, Ron still watching from the corner of his eye, saw Hermione move toward him on the tree log and then smelled citrus shampoo. Before Ron could comprehend that this is the closest they’ve been in weeks, Hermione laid her head up his shoulder. Unable to keep the smile off his face, he wrapped his left arm around Hermione’s shoulder and brought her closer. He heard her let out a breathe she was holding.
Ron didn’t claim to know everything about Hermione, but if he knew as much as he thought he did, he reckoned that they may turn out fine.