Fic: Happy Birthday, Ron! (Remus/Ron)
Title: Happy Birthday, Ron!
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Ron's thirtieth birthday. (ETA: I know that's not for another year, but I wanted him to turn 30 in this fic.)
Author Notes: Written for my rarepair_shorts, prompt: these young men; and for remus_ron_slash's Marvellous Month of March.
Thank you, tjwritter, for the excellent comments and very speedy beta!
"Here you go, mate." Harry set down a new glass in front of Ron, then slumped down into his seat, already a bit unsteady on his legs.
"Cheers," Ron mumbled.
"Oh, come on, Ron, lighten up! It's your birthday!"
"I never said I wanted to party, did I?"
"I know you didn't, but it's not like you turn thirty every day. And we're not partying; we're just having a couple of pints together. You should be glad that I talked Ginny and Hermione out of that surprise party they had planned!"
Ron groaned. A bloody surprise party! "Thanks, appreciated."
Harry and Ron finished their pints in silence.
"I better be off. I'd rather be at the cottage, just in case."
"Ron, don't be daft. It's not like it's Remus's first Moon. He's been doing this for … what? Forty years? He told you to go and have fun tonight and that you'd celebrate properly after the Moon."
"I know he did. But you know Remus, he would never tell me to stay. Never, even if he wanted me to. Let's just call it a night, all right?"
"Fine, but I'll come back to the cottage with you."
"Fair enough. Let's go then," he said gruffly.
They stumbled out of the fireplace; both a bit unsteady on their legs thanks to the Firewhiskys Rosmerta had kept levitating over to their table between pints. Before they made it to the sofa, Harry had already conjured a new bottle from somewhere. He held it out to Ron, who took it gratefully.
Half a bottle later, Ron's mood had lifted considerably. Amidst giggles, they attempted to have a conversation, but kept stumbling over their words. More often than not, they simply burst out with laughter before they got out a single word.
"Let's go for a walk," Harry slurred, with a giggle. "Might meet Moony."
"'Kay." Ron pushed himself up from the sofa, overbalanced and tripped over the coffee table. "Fuck!"
Still shaking with laughter, Harry crawled to the rescue, and together the two of them managed to get to their feet and stumbled out of the back door.
They didn't make it far. By the time Moony came back, he found them asleep. Harry in a lawn chair, glasses askew on his face; Ron in the hammock. Moony sniffed and found them to be okay, albeit very drunk. He growled quietly, and feeling the waning of the moon, quickly made his way to the other side of the garden. Although it was highly unlikely that Harry or Ron would wake any time soon, he did not want to risk them witnessing the agony and humiliation that was part of becoming human again.
Once Remus had picked up his wand from the windowsill in the kitchen, he went out again and cast a warming spell over the boys. It was not particularly cold that night, but all the same, March wasn't a good time for sleeping outside. Still, they were old enough, and he wasn't going to levitate them inside and tuck them in.
When Remus woke up the next day, sometime close to noon, he wondered momentarily about the empty space beside him, then remembered that Ron had decided, not quite voluntarily, to set up camp in the garden last night. He chuckled quietly and got up to fix tea and fetch some hangover potion.
Remus went outside and set down tea and potion next to Harry, then went over to Ron. Ron was snoring loudly, his mouth open. Remus smiled at him indulgently; it looked like they had had a good birthday party after all. Ron cracked open an eye reluctantly. "Thirsty," he croaked.
"I thought you might be. Here, take this first." Remus handed him the hangover potion, which Ron drank greedily and gratefully, sighing with relief as he let the vial drop to the ground.
"So, had a good time then?"
"I think so … Harry?" Harry merely grunted in his sleep. "Yeah, I guess we did. You?"
"Okay, all limbs still attached," Remus joked.
"Oh, glad to hear," Ron replied dryly before he added more seriously, "I wish you could have been there last night."
"Trust me, I would have liked to be there, but I wasn't particularly great company."
"I guess not. I think we went out to find you. Didn't make it far, did we?"
"Not very, no. I'll make up for missing your birthday party, I promise."
"You better!" Ron reached and pulled Remus towards him for a kiss.
"Oi, you guys, not in public!"
Trust Harry to wake up at the most inopportune moment! Remus pulled back as Ron threw the first thing he got his hands on - the empty potions vial - across to the lawn chair. Both no doubt still rather intoxicated, Harry and Ron collapsed in fits of laughter at Ron's miserable aim.
Remus stood back and shook his head slightly. Unbelievable, these young men! As he watched his lover and his best friend with fondness, he remembered himself about thirty years earlier in a very similar situation. Surprisingly, the memory didn't leave him feeling empty and sad. "Happy birthday, Ron," he whispered, unheard by anyone but himself, and smiled.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Ron's thirtieth birthday. (ETA: I know that's not for another year, but I wanted him to turn 30 in this fic.)
Author Notes: Written for my rarepair_shorts, prompt: these young men; and for remus_ron_slash's Marvellous Month of March.
Thank you, tjwritter, for the excellent comments and very speedy beta!
"Here you go, mate." Harry set down a new glass in front of Ron, then slumped down into his seat, already a bit unsteady on his legs.
"Cheers," Ron mumbled.
"Oh, come on, Ron, lighten up! It's your birthday!"
"I never said I wanted to party, did I?"
"I know you didn't, but it's not like you turn thirty every day. And we're not partying; we're just having a couple of pints together. You should be glad that I talked Ginny and Hermione out of that surprise party they had planned!"
Ron groaned. A bloody surprise party! "Thanks, appreciated."
Harry and Ron finished their pints in silence.
"I better be off. I'd rather be at the cottage, just in case."
"Ron, don't be daft. It's not like it's Remus's first Moon. He's been doing this for … what? Forty years? He told you to go and have fun tonight and that you'd celebrate properly after the Moon."
"I know he did. But you know Remus, he would never tell me to stay. Never, even if he wanted me to. Let's just call it a night, all right?"
"Fine, but I'll come back to the cottage with you."
"Fair enough. Let's go then," he said gruffly.
They stumbled out of the fireplace; both a bit unsteady on their legs thanks to the Firewhiskys Rosmerta had kept levitating over to their table between pints. Before they made it to the sofa, Harry had already conjured a new bottle from somewhere. He held it out to Ron, who took it gratefully.
Half a bottle later, Ron's mood had lifted considerably. Amidst giggles, they attempted to have a conversation, but kept stumbling over their words. More often than not, they simply burst out with laughter before they got out a single word.
"Let's go for a walk," Harry slurred, with a giggle. "Might meet Moony."
"'Kay." Ron pushed himself up from the sofa, overbalanced and tripped over the coffee table. "Fuck!"
Still shaking with laughter, Harry crawled to the rescue, and together the two of them managed to get to their feet and stumbled out of the back door.
They didn't make it far. By the time Moony came back, he found them asleep. Harry in a lawn chair, glasses askew on his face; Ron in the hammock. Moony sniffed and found them to be okay, albeit very drunk. He growled quietly, and feeling the waning of the moon, quickly made his way to the other side of the garden. Although it was highly unlikely that Harry or Ron would wake any time soon, he did not want to risk them witnessing the agony and humiliation that was part of becoming human again.
Once Remus had picked up his wand from the windowsill in the kitchen, he went out again and cast a warming spell over the boys. It was not particularly cold that night, but all the same, March wasn't a good time for sleeping outside. Still, they were old enough, and he wasn't going to levitate them inside and tuck them in.
When Remus woke up the next day, sometime close to noon, he wondered momentarily about the empty space beside him, then remembered that Ron had decided, not quite voluntarily, to set up camp in the garden last night. He chuckled quietly and got up to fix tea and fetch some hangover potion.
Remus went outside and set down tea and potion next to Harry, then went over to Ron. Ron was snoring loudly, his mouth open. Remus smiled at him indulgently; it looked like they had had a good birthday party after all. Ron cracked open an eye reluctantly. "Thirsty," he croaked.
"I thought you might be. Here, take this first." Remus handed him the hangover potion, which Ron drank greedily and gratefully, sighing with relief as he let the vial drop to the ground.
"So, had a good time then?"
"I think so … Harry?" Harry merely grunted in his sleep. "Yeah, I guess we did. You?"
"Okay, all limbs still attached," Remus joked.
"Oh, glad to hear," Ron replied dryly before he added more seriously, "I wish you could have been there last night."
"Trust me, I would have liked to be there, but I wasn't particularly great company."
"I guess not. I think we went out to find you. Didn't make it far, did we?"
"Not very, no. I'll make up for missing your birthday party, I promise."
"You better!" Ron reached and pulled Remus towards him for a kiss.
"Oi, you guys, not in public!"
Trust Harry to wake up at the most inopportune moment! Remus pulled back as Ron threw the first thing he got his hands on - the empty potions vial - across to the lawn chair. Both no doubt still rather intoxicated, Harry and Ron collapsed in fits of laughter at Ron's miserable aim.
Remus stood back and shook his head slightly. Unbelievable, these young men! As he watched his lover and his best friend with fondness, he remembered himself about thirty years earlier in a very similar situation. Surprisingly, the memory didn't leave him feeling empty and sad. "Happy birthday, Ron," he whispered, unheard by anyone but himself, and smiled.