Narrative
Who: Ron and Harry
When: January 10th, morning
Where: Wizarding Cemetery, just outside St Ottery
Status: Incomplete
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ron finally visits his father's grave and finally confronts Harry.
It was an unusually bright morning. Warm for a January in England. And still, Ron felt cold as he made his way through the small cemetary, searching for a gravestone he'd never seen. He hadn't bothered to ask where exactly it would be. He didn't have the nerve. Funny, how a proud Gryffindor could be so cowardly sometimes. The wind picked up, shifting the bare tree limbs above him and sending a shiver up his back. Ron buried his hands further in his coat pocket and trudged through angle deep snow, stopping occationally to brush aside the frust to look closer at a name or two, until he found it. On a small, modest stone near the back, he almost fell to his knees when his hand brushed aside the ice to reveal his father's name carved into the cold marker.
He probably ought to have spotted it before. Fresh flowers rested in the vase, the lawn around it cleaned and evidence of recent care. If not for the night's fresh powder, he would have been able to read out the inscription from a much farther distance. 'Here Rests Arthur Weasley. Beloved Husband. Father. Hero.'
Short, but appropriate. Ron knew that his brothers and mum had scrambled together what they could to pay for everything themselves- they wouldn't have accepted any help from Harry or anyone else. Not for this. It was too personal. Something his mother would insist be family only. Even if Harry was as good as such.
He crouched there a half minute longer, his mind slowly mulling over the inscription before he pushed himself up again and let out a breath.
"..Hey Dad...", the young man hesitated to speak at all. It was strange...talking to a stone as if it were a person. A long dead person who one was probably never going to see again. Ron was half convinced he'd gone mental. But, Hermione had insisted that sometimes just..talking could be helpful. Even if there was no one around to hear it. Right...
"You're probably wondering what took me so long, huh?" He forced a bit of a smile, rocking on the back of his heels and looking around. The cemetary was a dreary place- abandoned save for him. Cold and bare. "Everyone seems to be wondering what took me so long, lately." Ron paused and looked again down at the grave. "I mean, it's not like I haven't considered it before..I did, I just..." He took a breath and paused for a moment "I was scared..." There. It was easier to say than he'd thought it might be. Well, not really.
"Yeah, I know...not very Weasley of me, right? Or..maybe it was...not that we were every scared of anything, but at least m'being honest about it. You always told me that was the most important thing, yeah?" He smiled a bit. He couldn't help himself. Ron tried to picture his father there. What he would say to him in this case, but..nothing game. Maybe that was because Mr. Weasley would just agree with his youngest son and let him finish for himself.
"Anyway, I figured it was about time to finally visit..seeing as you're probably the only one in the family who isn't disappointed in me for something or another. And well...I sort of wanted you to be the first to know about Hermione and me. I uh..well, we got married. Funny, yeah? I know, I know, you probably saw that coming a kilo away. But, I didn't. Not after everything and well...for the first time in years, I'm happy." Ron smirked again, though it fell soon after. "I just wish it were so easy to tell mum that..."
A breeze picked up and swept through the cemetary and Ron looked up, the distict feeling he was being watched bothering the back of his mind. But, he saw noone, and so instead, he put his hands back into his pockets and went on. "Yeah, she's going to kill me, huh? I wish you could be here to help. At least then, I'd have an extra shield between me and her when the hexing starts... She uh, didn't know, by the way. Obviously. It was quick. I mean, spur of the moment. I don't even know what made me ask..well, yeah I do..but, we sort of eloped before either of us knew it. I just haven't had the guts to face the rest of the family with it yet. Except the twins...they know. They always seem to know, though. Scary, those two."
Ron sighed, scratching the back of his neck and licking his lips. Maybe that was it? It seemed he got a lot off his chest just talking as he had. Yet, something kept him there. Something he hadn't dared mention yet. "I don't know if Harry's been by, yet...but..he probably has. At least over the years. He's uh..well, I don't know how he is. Thing is ,we're not exactly on speaking terms and...I sorta hate him at the moment. The git's been a real pain in the arse since you were here. He's changed. I mean, REALLY changed. He likes- well...he's different. And I dunno what to do with the prat. I just wanna hit the bastard every time I see him- or when he opens his bloody mouth at least. I know you'd never condone that, but still...he's bloody worse than Percy these days!"
When: January 10th, morning
Where: Wizarding Cemetery, just outside St Ottery
Status: Incomplete
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ron finally visits his father's grave and finally confronts Harry.
It was an unusually bright morning. Warm for a January in England. And still, Ron felt cold as he made his way through the small cemetary, searching for a gravestone he'd never seen. He hadn't bothered to ask where exactly it would be. He didn't have the nerve. Funny, how a proud Gryffindor could be so cowardly sometimes. The wind picked up, shifting the bare tree limbs above him and sending a shiver up his back. Ron buried his hands further in his coat pocket and trudged through angle deep snow, stopping occationally to brush aside the frust to look closer at a name or two, until he found it. On a small, modest stone near the back, he almost fell to his knees when his hand brushed aside the ice to reveal his father's name carved into the cold marker.
He probably ought to have spotted it before. Fresh flowers rested in the vase, the lawn around it cleaned and evidence of recent care. If not for the night's fresh powder, he would have been able to read out the inscription from a much farther distance. 'Here Rests Arthur Weasley. Beloved Husband. Father. Hero.'
Short, but appropriate. Ron knew that his brothers and mum had scrambled together what they could to pay for everything themselves- they wouldn't have accepted any help from Harry or anyone else. Not for this. It was too personal. Something his mother would insist be family only. Even if Harry was as good as such.
He crouched there a half minute longer, his mind slowly mulling over the inscription before he pushed himself up again and let out a breath.
"..Hey Dad...", the young man hesitated to speak at all. It was strange...talking to a stone as if it were a person. A long dead person who one was probably never going to see again. Ron was half convinced he'd gone mental. But, Hermione had insisted that sometimes just..talking could be helpful. Even if there was no one around to hear it. Right...
"You're probably wondering what took me so long, huh?" He forced a bit of a smile, rocking on the back of his heels and looking around. The cemetary was a dreary place- abandoned save for him. Cold and bare. "Everyone seems to be wondering what took me so long, lately." Ron paused and looked again down at the grave. "I mean, it's not like I haven't considered it before..I did, I just..." He took a breath and paused for a moment "I was scared..." There. It was easier to say than he'd thought it might be. Well, not really.
"Yeah, I know...not very Weasley of me, right? Or..maybe it was...not that we were every scared of anything, but at least m'being honest about it. You always told me that was the most important thing, yeah?" He smiled a bit. He couldn't help himself. Ron tried to picture his father there. What he would say to him in this case, but..nothing game. Maybe that was because Mr. Weasley would just agree with his youngest son and let him finish for himself.
"Anyway, I figured it was about time to finally visit..seeing as you're probably the only one in the family who isn't disappointed in me for something or another. And well...I sort of wanted you to be the first to know about Hermione and me. I uh..well, we got married. Funny, yeah? I know, I know, you probably saw that coming a kilo away. But, I didn't. Not after everything and well...for the first time in years, I'm happy." Ron smirked again, though it fell soon after. "I just wish it were so easy to tell mum that..."
A breeze picked up and swept through the cemetary and Ron looked up, the distict feeling he was being watched bothering the back of his mind. But, he saw noone, and so instead, he put his hands back into his pockets and went on. "Yeah, she's going to kill me, huh? I wish you could be here to help. At least then, I'd have an extra shield between me and her when the hexing starts... She uh, didn't know, by the way. Obviously. It was quick. I mean, spur of the moment. I don't even know what made me ask..well, yeah I do..but, we sort of eloped before either of us knew it. I just haven't had the guts to face the rest of the family with it yet. Except the twins...they know. They always seem to know, though. Scary, those two."
Ron sighed, scratching the back of his neck and licking his lips. Maybe that was it? It seemed he got a lot off his chest just talking as he had. Yet, something kept him there. Something he hadn't dared mention yet. "I don't know if Harry's been by, yet...but..he probably has. At least over the years. He's uh..well, I don't know how he is. Thing is ,we're not exactly on speaking terms and...I sorta hate him at the moment. The git's been a real pain in the arse since you were here. He's changed. I mean, REALLY changed. He likes- well...he's different. And I dunno what to do with the prat. I just wanna hit the bastard every time I see him- or when he opens his bloody mouth at least. I know you'd never condone that, but still...he's bloody worse than Percy these days!"