Ron Weasley - Tumblr Posts

R. Weasley - ‘On Air’

Summary: With Ron away hunting for horcruxes, he finds comfort in listening to his brother’s broadcast, ‘Potterwatch.’ What will happen when the voice he has longed to hear for months finally comes on air?

Includes: Ron Weasley x female reader, fluff, mutual pining, friends->lovers, swearing, mentions of war (Set in Deathly Hallows)

A/n: So this is the first thing I’ve written on tumblr haha, I’m not sure if I will continually update this blog but it’s just for fun as of right now. I hope you enjoy! :)

“...We suggest that you continue to show your devotion to the man with the lightning scar by listening to Potterwatch! And now let’s move to news concerning-“

Ron sits idly in his small bunk of the rustic tent, head resting in his hands as he listens to the scratchy radio, his twin brother’s energetic voices going in one ear and out the other.

The ginger has been in this tent without y/n for months. He often thought of the last time he’d seen her; the pure terror in her eyes right before he apparated away to muggle London with his two best friends. Time froze as the two stared at eachother in their wedding attire, before Hermione’s calls broke their trance. ‘Let’s go, Ronald!’

He wishes he got to say something to her before he left. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ or even those long-awaited three words ‘I love you.’ The two had been having an amazing time at the wedding before disaster struck; dancing, drinking, staring. So many words were left unsaid between the pair, words that should’ve been spoken long before. Ron planned on confessing his feelings for the girl that night, and not getting the chance to do so left him feeling empty inside.

Y/n had apparated away with the Fred, George, and Ginny seconds after Ron had with Harry and Hermione. He knew she was in good hands, yet he couldn’t help but worry about her constantly. Instead of helping his friends hunt for horcruxes, he stayed inside the confines of the tent, longing to hear her voice and see her smile. He wishes he would’ve let her come with them. ‘But I can’t risk you getting hurt. I can’t risk losing you.’

When Ron was in charge of wearing the locket, thoughts of the girl still ran through his head. But these thoughts were not the regular images of her smiling or the sound of her laughter. Instead, his mind filled with jealous thoughts of her hanging out with his brothers, forgetting about him completely. Instead, he watched from afar as she laughed at their jokes. At times like these, he would turn the radio off harshly, unable to bare the sound of his brother’s voices any longer. If she’s with them, why won’t she say anything? Why won’t she talk to me?

These thoughts subsided when he took a much needed break from the locket, issued by Harry and Hermione. No matter what he was doing, you were always on his mind.

“And now, please turn your attention to our wonderful guest, y/n l/n, who has something very special to say!”

Ron instantly perked up. He brought his head from out of his hands, staring at the radio, waiting to hear the voice he oh so adored.

“Hi guys,” she giggled. This made Ron’s heart melt. “I just wanted to come on here and thank those who are out risking their lives right now. As much as I miss my best friends, there is no other group of people that I would trust more to end this war.”

“Harry, Hermione, come quick!” Ron shouts. He clutches the radio in his arms tightly, holding onto every bit of her that he can.

The two run into the tent, wands drawn and ready to fight. “Ronald, what’s wrong?” yells Hermione, expecting to find her friend in danger.

“It’s y/n! She’s here, she’s on the radio, she’s talking to me!” he breathes, gesturing to the radio in his arms. “Come listen!”

The three sit down on the floor, listening for their friend’s voice. “I also wanted to say something to a particular someone, someone who is very special to me—shut up, Fred!” A small kicking sound is heard, follow by Fred Weasley’s faint voice “Ow!” The trio chuckles at this, eager to hear what their absent friend has to say.

“Sorry about that, where was I?” she says. Ron can hear the smile in her voice, knowing her so well that he can picture the exact face she is making right now. “Right, so anyways, I don’t know if he’s listening, or if he can hear this—god this is so embarrassing.”

Ron’s smirk fades slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. Who is ‘he?’ He let’s go of the radio, setting it back on the ground in the center of the trio’s makeshift circle. He nervously fiddles with his thumbs, impatiently waiting to hear her next words.

A faint ‘C’mon y/n!’ echoes through the tent, along with a sigh of defeat belonging to the embarrassed girl. “Alright, so, um, I just wanted to say something to Ron Weasley, if you’re out there I-“

He angelic voice gets cut off abruptly, replaced with a cracking, staticky sound. Harry covers his ears, turning down the volume knob on the radio. “W-where did she go?” asks Ron in a panic-ridden voice. “What happened?”

“We lost connection, Ron...” says Hermione glumly. “We lost her.”

“No, no, no, we couldn’t have, right Harry?” He pleads, looking towards his bespectacled friend. “Ron, I’m sorry mate...” Harry replies, head hung low.

“Well don’t just stand there! Hermione, don’t you know some spell that can repair it? I need to hear what she says, she said my name! Did you hear her? She was talking to me!” He panics.

“Ron, there’s nothing I can do, I’m sorry.” Hermione frowns. Ron clutches the radio, jumping to his feet. He begins to pace around the tent, mumbling under his breath.

“I’m leaving. I have to go find her. I need to make sure she’s okay. I need to hear what she was going to say!” Ron declares.

“Mate, I’m sure she’s fine. You don’t even know where she is. She-“

“Harry, I’m going. She’s our best friend! She’s the love of my life, I need to go see her,” Ron cuts him off.

Harry and Hermione go silent at his confession, which he definitely did not mean to announce. After a few moments, Hermione’s face turns upward into a huge grin. “Go get her.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Ron apparates to the burrow, assuming it would be safe as it has been months after the wedding incident. As he walks through the door, he is instantly entrapped in a bear hug. Without getting a good look at who it was, he instantly thinks y/n?

“Ronald, dear! What are you doing here?” Much to his disappointment, the arms wrapped around him belonged to his mother. Not that he isn’t happy to see her, she just isn’t the woman he was expecting.

“Mom, where is y/n? I heard her on the radio, on the twins’ broadcast, I need to talk to her,” he says quickly, his words jumbling together.

“Oh dear, that was so sweet what she said. I just knew it. Your father and I were so happy when we heard,” Molly replies sweetly, clutching her heart in her hands.

“You heard what she said? Our radio cut off right after she said my name. What did she say?” Ron begs.

“I think it’s something you should hear from her. They’re at the joke shop, they’ve been broadcasting from George’s bedroom up there. Go get her, hun.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Ron apparates yet again, this time to the vacant streets of Diagon Alley, wand at the ready just to be safe. He approaches the joke shop, knocking on the door harshly so they could hear him from all the way at the top of the store. He hears footsteps creeping down the stairs, and sees the doorknob twist slightly.

The door opens quickly, revealing a straight-faced Ginny, her wand ready to strike the intruder. Once realizing her brother was the culprit, she drops her wand, engulfing him in a rough hug.

“Ron!” she beams. He smiles at her, happy to see his family safe. “She’s upstairs. George’s room,” Ginny winks.

As Ron makes his way up the creaky stairs, he can’t help but grow nervous; his hands shaking, his lips curling. What does she have to say to me?

He lightly knocks on the wooden door with a sign reading ‘G. Weasley.’ Slowly, the door opens, revealing a beautiful h/c girl. He stares into her eyes, a love struck smile reaching his lips.

“Y/n,” He beams. She wraps him into a tight hug, one that can only be described as home. “Hi,” she whispers into the crook of his neck.

“Well, well, well, looks who’s here,” starts George, teasingly. “What does ickle Ronniekins have to say to our little y/n now that she has professed her love for him over a live broadcast?” finishes Fred into the microphone connected to the radio.

Ron stops dead, his arms dropping their hold on y/n’s waist. “Y/n—what is he talking about?” he questions, confusion lacing his words.

“Y-you didn’t hear? On the radio?” she replies, biting her lip in embarrassment and regret. She tilts her head down, suddenly becoming very interested in the wooden floor below.

“I heard you say my name...and then our radio lost connection. What were you gonna sa—Fred get that microphone out of my face! Are you still on the air?!” Ron yells, scolding his older brother before the tall boy slowly backs away, pretending to end the broadcast.

“Y/n, what were you gonna say?” He cups her cheek in his calloused palm, forcing Y/n to stare up into his eyes, the blue oceans that she hasn’t gotten lost in for so long.

“The listeners are gonna go crazy, Freddie, make sure you get this,” whispers George, just out of earshot from the two.

“W-well if you didn’t hear it it’s not really a big deal, it wasn’t anything important,” she lets out. Ron sighs at this, a frown forming on his face.

“Please tell me, y/n, I came all this way. I never stopped thinking about you, y’know. I was holding out hope that you would come on and say something, and when I heard your voice I was so happy, and then when you were gone I—“

Suddenly, y/n smashes her lips onto Ron’s chapped ones, wrapping her arms around his neck. It caught the boy terribly off-guard, but once he processed what was happening, he deepened the kiss. Butterflies erupted in the pair’s stomachs as their lips moved together in sync. Years and years of stolen glances, accidental skin brushes, and longing stares all led up to this passion-filled moment. Kissing her made all of the worries and stress of the war melt away. All that mattered in that moment was the two of them.

“They’re kissing!” whispered Fred into the microphone, broadcast still very much in session.

Ginny comes rushing back up the stairs, jaw dropped when she saw what was happening in the doorway of George’s room. “Fuck, did I miss it?”

Her whining pulls y/n and Ron out of their embrace, the pair backing up slightly and staring into each other’s eyes. “They haven’t said it yet!” says George to his sister, gesturing at the two.

“Said what?” questions Ron, rather oblivious. You’d think that he’d know exactly what they were talking about after the fervent kiss the two just shared seconds ago.

“Ron, I-I love you. I’m in love with you,” y/n says softly, grabbing her arm in the other and lightly scratching, a nervous response the girl had.

Ron was in a state of utter disbelief. Is that really what she had said on the radio? The girl he has been in love with for years had finally admitted her feelings (that he didn’t even know she had).

“I’m in love with you too. I have been since fourth year when you kissed my cheek after I came out of the Black Lake,” he said through a toothy smile.

“Awww, Ron’s in love,” Ginny teases, making dramatic swooning gestures.

“Shove off, Gin,” replies her brother, pulling y/n into his chest, holding her so gently as if she were made out of porcelain. He plants a quick kiss to the top of her head, smiling down at the girl.

“Well there you have it folks, the two lovers have finally been reunited,” says Fred into the microphone. “I think I’m tearing up Freddie, ickle Ronniekins is all grown up,” adds George, fake sniffling and crying for dramatics.

“Did you two really get all of that on air? That’s so embarrassing, turn it off!” scolds Ron, shaking his head. Y/n cringes, pushing her face into his chest to hide her blushing cheeks.

“Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don’t know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep eachother safe, keep faith. Goodnight!” announces Fred, concluding the broadcast for real this time.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

On the other side of Europe, Hermione sits on the floor of the tent, staring at the radio, trying sny and every spell she can think of in hope of fixing the device. She is on the verge of giving up, a foreign defeat for the young witch. Giving it a rough kick out of anger, she hears the static turns to voices. ‘They’re kissing!,’ she hears Fred whisper.

“Harry, Harry, come here! I fixed it! Ron and y/n, they’re kissing!” Hermione yells. Harry rushes into the tent, grinning. “Who would’ve thought that all I had to do was give it a good kick?” the brunette giggles.

The two sit criss-crossed on the floor, Hermione resting her head on Harry’s shoulder. Huge, proud smiles paint their faces. “Finally,” says Hermione.

BESTIE HEY BESTIE CONGRATULATIONS ON 300 you deserve it sm or whatever ig 🙄. so i wanted to ask for a 🫀 with the song stargazing by the neighbourhood? for ron weasley if you can 😁 currently very much obsessed with the concept of dancing to that song w/ him😕😕

stargazing

ron weasley x reader

summary: you and ron dance together in the common room when you both can’t sleep.

word count: 0.3l

warnings: mentions of sleep deprivation, kissy kiss

a/n: thanks bestie love u or whatever 🙄

‘Take it from the top

If I start I just can't stop’

both you and ron had been sprawled out on the vermillion couches after deciding the both of you couldn’t sleep and it might’ve helped with a common room fire place and solemn music.

he let out a deep sigh and shimmed you off of him to stand in the middle of the common room; his hair tousled, his eyebags glowing, his pjamas wrinkled and a hand out stretched to meet yours.

“what would you like me to do with that?” you uttered, gesturing to his hand as a small giggle escaped your throat.

“dance with me.” he said tiredly and with determination, grabbing both of your hands and pulling your bodies against eachother.

‘All the patience that I've got

It's not enough to save me’

your arms encased his torso and his hands were snug against the small of your back.

“a lot better than sleeping, this is.” he approved and looking down at your chin placed on his chest looking back up to him; his gaze swirling into your (e/c) irises.

“you know even when your about to fall asleep from sleep deprivation, you’re still pretty.” you mumbled swaying from side to side.

he abruptly peeled off one of your hands from his shirt spinning your around attempting to quietly chuckle due to the sleeping bodies upstairs.

‘It's a race against the clock

But we don't wanna watch’

“ron i didn’t think you were the dancing type.” you said with an amused tone, this time your hands clasped around his neck.

“m’definetly not, have you seen these two left feet.” he chuckled before continuing, “but f’you, i will be the best dancer.” he laughed again, then looked deep into your eyes.

you thought about his gestures and words for a moment, before leaning in and slotting your plush and soft lips with his. no rush to kiss, just a nice solemn moment between your and your boyfriend.

you pulled away barely a millimeter to murmur to him.

“my boyfriend, ronald weasley, a big sap. molly would be proud.” you chuckled, kissing him again deeper this time.

Keep running 'til we're lost

Got me thinkin'

taglist: @mushroomfleur @famdomhideout

balancing on breaking branches // r.w.

summary: Y/N joins the trio on their horocrux hunt and finds herself almost losing her bestfriend under the influence of the horocrux locket.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: … none? 

Blistering cold. That’s all she felt, agonizing, blistering cold, infiltrating the flannel that hugged her back. Godric, it felt like it was seeping through her clothes and freezing her body from the inside out. She huffed and quickly bunched the ends of her sleeves in her fists, tucking them close to her body as she crossed her arms. 

Ron paused his steps at the ruckus behind him, and turned to look back at her.

“You alright, love?” 

Y/N huffed, a cloud of her breath forming in front of her, and trudged past him, “Fine.” 

Keep reading

Tempers and Temptation

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: Ron lets his feelings get the better of him when he finds you spending some time with his brother, and when his temper boils over, it leads to a long overdue confession.

— “Can you shut up for once in your life?”

— “I know you said you didn’t want to be late, but you look amazing, and I’m trying not to kiss you senseless right now.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: arguing, jealousy, insecurities, angst, mild swearing, fluff, requited love, kissing

A/N: This is my fic for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing challenge! The prompts I’ve chosen are listed above, and they will be bolded and italicized in the fic! (Also, Fred is alive in this one!) Congratulations again my darling Chloe, you deserve all the love and more!

(not my gif, credits to the maker)

It was the beginning of the summer season, just a week and a half before Charlie’s wedding. The Weasley’s had all flocked back to their beloved family home for the once in a lifetime occasion for their brother, the new and improved Burrow now bustling with jovial energy. Harry had come with Ginny, Ron had picked you up on his way, Bill and Fleur were there first with Percy, and Hermione would soon join the family in the next couple of days to come. The decision to host the wedding there was one that was made hesitantly with the way Bill and Fleur’s had ended so tragically. But, the tight-knit family had decided the past was going to be put behind them and they refused to let it tarnish another special day. Their home was remodeled and desperately ready for new and brighter memories.

Keep reading

hii !! do u think u could ever write something w this deleted scene ?? https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJWEv6So/ maybe a ron x reader because i see u’ve already done a harry x reader recently ☺️ thank you so much and no pressure 🫂

You still owe me a dance, Ronniekins // R.W

SUMMARY: Ron Weasley is a git that can't bring himself to ask (Y/N) to the Yule ball, but can be extremely jealous of the guys that do.

PAIRING: Ron Weasley x femRavenclaw!reader.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS: Jealousy. Fluff. A happy ending.

A/N: OKAY SO I LOVED THIS IDEA! I hope you like the final result <3

Ron Weasley hated those Durmstrang boys, Who did they think they were? With those ridiculously long cloaks that they wore all the time, and the way they walked through the halls of Hogwarts like they owned the goddamn place. Maybe the real reason he couldn't stand them was because of you.

Lately, Ron had been feeling attracted to his Charms partner, a Ravenclaw girl from his year that captivated his attention at the beginning of the year. Sure he felt attracted to the Beauxbatons girls, but that was a different kind of attraction, he laughed at your jokes and felt himself getting flustered when you would comment on his hair and how orange was your favorite color. He could feel his affection for you blooming daily, if only he had the guts to talk to you for more than just the Charms notes.

As the Yule ball neared, you grew more excited, everything had been arranged, your dress, your shoes, your hair, the only thing missing was a date, it sounded easy, but the fear of being rejected by him made you stay quiet and pray to your wishing star that Ronald Weasley asked you.

“Come on (Y/N) it's pretty obvious that boy has a crush on you.” Hermione said, smiling cheekily at you. You had both grown closer because of your love for reading, although Hermione was much more academically driven than you, you read for fun, and if something didn't catch your attention, you simply dropped it.

“I don't think so, Hermione.” You followed her gaze to the other side of the library only to find him already looking at you, you smiled shyly and lowered your gaze, the action did not go unnoticed by Harry or Ron.

Suddenly, Ron got up and in a swift motion removed all his things from his table, he was so upset that even his neck was red, without any words he practically ran out of the place, Harry shot you an apologetic smile and proceeded to follow his friend outside.

Both you and Hermione shrugged, but in the back of your mind you couldn't help but wonder, was Ronald Weasley jealous?

✧✧✧

His name was Maxim, he was seventeen years old and a fan of Quidditch, he liked to read just as much as you and laughed at your corny jokes, truth be told, he was probably the most perfect guy you had ever met, but there was something that kept pulling you to the moody redhead that seemed to be avoiding you lately.

You were hanging at the courtyard with your female friends, laughing at some embarrassing story when Maxim came around, he looked quite confident, and he had a bright smile plastered on his face. “(Y/N) Would you go make me the honor of accompanying me to the ball?”

Your eyes instantly turned to Ron, he had his jaw tightened, and you hoped he looked your way, to find a reason to say no to perfect Maxim, but a part of you knew you couldn't keep waiting much longer. “Yes.” Maxim kissed you hand lightly, and after bowing to you he and his mates walked away, you noticed the triumphant smile on his face and you couldn't help but mirror his expression.

“What the hell, (Y/N) I thought we were going together!” And just like that your smiled disappeared, Ron’s face was red with anger, and Harry and your friends seemed just plain uncomfortable.

“Why are you yelling at me? He asked and I said yes.” You felt your anger rising to your chest, the feeling of fury blinding the both of you.

“Because you were supposed to be my date, I thought it was a silent agreement!”

“WELL, MAYBE NEXT TIME IF YOU WANT SOMETHING HAVE THE GUTS TO ASK!” and with that, you stormed off, your friends closely behind you.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, both silently agreed that didn't go well, Ron sat on the pillar, he felt defeated, if only he had asked you first. Ron felt an arm around his shoulders, and then he faced his twin brothers.

“(Y/N) seemed pretty upset, Did you scare her off already?” Fred was smirking at his younger brother, his twin beside him had the same expression. “Honestly, we didn't think she could put up with you this long.”

“Oh, shove off, I'm not in the mood.” Ron shrugged, he was so deflated, he was going to wear horrible dress robes and not even get the chance of taking the girl he fancied to the ball. Meanwhile, Harry explained the situation to the twins.

“Well, looks like our Ronniekins is finally entering the magical age where girls break his heart.”

“Oh George, They grow up so fast.” Fred pretended to wipe a tear from his eyes, Ron pushed both his brother and left the place, ignoring the laughter behind him as he focused on remembering your face, the only consolation he had was hoping to spot you in your beautiful dress robes the day of the ball.

✧✧✧

You checked your dress one last time in the mirror, your friends had all already left with their partners but you and Maxim had agreed to meet at the entrance of the Great hall. Unfortunately, you haven't got the chance to speak with Ron, maybe you were both just equally stubborn and proud to offer an apology, still, you hoped everything fell into place with time, but now you had to enjoy the night.

You walked alone through the halls of Hogwarts, enjoying the silence of the night. The only sound that could be heard was the heel of your shoe bumping on the hard floor. Once you finally reached the stairs, you breathed deeply and then walked down as gracefully as you could.

When his eyes landed on you, Ron could've sworn the world had stopped, you wore a (F/C) dress that reached your ankle, the sleeves were shoulder length, but what made it all much more stunning was you, there was a sweet smile adorning your face, your cheeks had a small amount of pink plasterer on them, and that's when he realized how much of a fool he had been.

Maxim offered his hand to you and you took it, he whispered how beautiful you looked as both of you entered the Great Hall. He said hello to his mates and your eyes wandered through the place, you couldn't believe how beautiful the decorations were, you looked at every corner of the place until your gaze landed on Ron and Padma Patil, she looked beautiful and he looked, well Ron looked uncomfortable, he kept tugging his collar and offering awkward smiles at Padma.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, you danced and laughed, drank spiked lemonade (Courtesy of the twins) but your eyes kept wandering to the corner of the ballroom where a miserable looking Ron sat next to a much more miserable looking Padma. Maxim must have noticed this because he took you out of the dance floor and guided you to an empty hall.

“You are a feautiful girl (Y/N) and I was lucky to dance vith you, but it is clear you wish to be with someone else.” His accent was thick, but you could understand everything he said, and that made you feel worse. Perfect Maxim was as comprehensive as he was handsome. “I'm so sorry, I really hope we can be friends, Maxim.”

He smiled kindly at you, kissed your hand and once more bowed. “Maybe I could ask Miss Patil to dance vith me.” He walked away from you, and you sat on the cold floor, taking off your heels as you looked out through one of the pillars, the moon shining down on you.

“Can I join you?” You hadn't heard his voice in what felt like a long time, so you scooched over and gave Ron some space, he sat down next to you, his eyes wandering through your features as he cherished your closeness. Without giving it much thought, you rested your head on his shoulder, and at that moment Ron could've died a happy man.

“I owe you an apology, I was a proper git to you.”

“Yes you were.” He noticed your playful smirk on your lips and realized you had forgiven him a long time ago. To test the waters, Ron carefully held your hands, and once he noticed you weren't pulling apart, he kissed it carefully. It felt different than with Maxim, maybe because Ron was just that special.

“I really do fancy you (Y/N) and I hope you give me the chance to prove it to you.” His heart was beating faster than ever as he waited for your response, but he felt like everything was tumbling down when you rapidly stood up, Maybe you just weren't interested.

But once he saw your hand extended for him to take it, all his worries left his mind, he happily obliged. “Where are we going?” You smiled at him, and without a warning, left a chaste peck on his lips, to quick for him to realize until it had happened, but once you pulled apart, you were met with those bright blue eyes looking at you, and a blushed Ron that held your hand tightly, as to keep him grounded or to make him realize it wasn't a dream.

“We are going back to the great hall. You still owe me a dance, Ronniekins.”

affinity — r.w

ron weasley x gender neutral reader

ronald weasley has always admired you from afar, so when you show up to his table unannounced (looking cute as ever), he’s sure his heart is beating loud enough for the entire great hall to hear.

warnings: none but ron is literally a nervous wreck lmfao

note: MY FIRST RON WORK! i hope this works out alright!

summer break, although viewed as a blessing by the entirety of hogwarts (students and staff alike), was the bane of ronald weasley’s very existence. he dreaded the weeks for which he’d be stripped of the chance to pine over you silently in the halls and rave about you proudly in the comforts of the common room every night.

he was smitten, and almost every inhabitant of the castle was easily aware of the obvious fact (filch’s cat included, harry had wagered). it was clear as day, and as the weasley boy was not as gifted in the matter of wooing others as his brothers were, he was blissfully unaware of the lack of discretion his habitual ogling enticed. he rather foolishly believed every lovestruck glance he stole towards your house table went unnoticed by his peers, that his occasional comments on your knowledge in charms passed as mere observations and not unwavering fascination.

ron can remember the moment he first laid eyes on you. it was back in his third year, and it went without saying that he was instantly enthralled by you. in his first care of magical creatures lesson, with a snapping beast-like textbook tucked under his arm and his friend approaching a squawking hippogriff ready to bite his head off (or so it seemed), you were the one thing that held his attention. you hadn’t said anything, you merely stood by and watched with bright fearful eyes as harry potter outstretched his hand to rest upon the large beast, but ronald couldn’t bring himself to look away. the way your dark hair swept across your forehead, and your lips curled with expectancy and admiration at the sight before you — ronald believed it to be a wonder he hadn’t fainted at that very moment.

and now, at the age of seventeen nearing eighteen, four years after having laid eyes on you, ronald weasley continues to adore you from afar.

“ron? ronald?!”

“it’s no use,” harry potter whispered to his friend, the two staring at the ginger haired boy with both concern and incredulity. “you know, if it wasn’t for that little sliver of sanity he still has left, i’d think he was given a love potion.”

hermione nodded, her eyebrows pulling together as she assessed one of her best friends. he sat with his eyes glazed over, chin resting atop his palm, and shoulders slumped in an embarrassing daze, completely oblivious to the snickers sounding from around the great hall. she sighed at the embarrassing sight, and grabbed ginny’s newspaper to swat the boy around the head with.

“what was that for?” he squealed, voice raising high as he whipped around to face his glaring friend. she stared back at him in disbelief, gesturing to his pathetic ogling with a frown. he only remained oblivious.

“you’re going to scare them away if you keep staring at them like that, you daft baboon,” harry stifled a laugh at her strict tone. ron blinked in response, glancing back at your table only to find you looking in his direction with a questioning gaze. he blushed at the unexpected exchange.

“what would you propose i do, then? go and talk to them? yeah, that’ll be great. i’ll just get up and walk over and say ‘hi, y/n, my names ronald weasley and i’ve only liked you for the last three years!’ ‘cause that’ll work fantastically,” ron threw his arms up in exasperation, slumping his head against the table in defeat. perhaps he should accept his fate. perhaps he should accept that fact that he is simply too nervous to be in your presence for even ten minutes without blushing like a fool.

“maybe leave out the speech and just say hi,” harry commented, a small amused smirk playing at his lips as he watched his friend’s internal battle. he could either get up and talk to you like a normal person, or he could continue ogling from afar and talking about you in the common room to people who don’t care. the former seems much more pleasant and appealing.

letting out a deep sigh, he pushes himself up from the bench, ready to stroll over to your table in a burst of newfound (and fleeting) confidence and actually speak to you for once. this is it, he thinks to himself as he dusts down his trousers with his hands. it’s finally happening.

then the unexpected happens.

ron turns around, preparing to make a beeline for your table, only to find you’re not there anymore. his shoulders drop in disappointment, but before he has any more time to mull over your sudden absence, he’s surprised by a hand reaching for his arm.

your hand.

ron swears he can feel his heart explode in his chest and a million thoughts thunder around in his brain, for example, what the hell is happening right now, and what did i do to deserve this? you’re standing in front of him with your hand on his arm, a soft expression upon your face as you peer at him with curiosity. he tries to calm the racing of his heart, the buzzing of his nerves, the screaming of his thoughts, but to no avail. his body doesn’t listen to the pleas of his mind, and he is left absolutely dazed before you. it’s a feeling he’s all too familiar with.

“how long have you been there?” he questions quietly, chapped lips parting as he glances around only to find the grinning faces of his housemates watching the interaction in amusement. ron catches sight of seamus’ unwavering smirk and he makes a mental note to give him a piece of his mind when he returns to the common room at night — though he struggles to keep the promise fresh in his mind, all thoughts seeming to fade the moment he meets your eyes. they’re staring back at him, a sight glint of amusement shining subtly, and he feels his heart fatefully skip a beat.

“long enough,” you try to hide your growing smirk, and ron’s cheek all but blaze under the scrutiny. he can’t even fathom how he’s still standing, given his circumstances, and feels sweat beading on his forehead in anticipation. you had been unfortunate enough to hear his speech, and he wants nothing more than the ground to swallow him whole.

“oh,” is all he can manage to breathe out, and he’s sure his knees are about to buckle beneath him. hermione and harry share a knowing look, eyeing the flustered boy standing awkwardly between the bench and table with awaiting expressions. you smile at ron, unknowingly knocking all the air out of him in the process, and he squeaks helplessly. this was not going well.

“sorry about the intrusion, but...” you trail off, eyes glancing down to his clammy hands hanging by his sides. “would you like to go to hogsmeade with me next weekend?”

ron’s jaw quickly falls slack, but he manages to save himself and clamps his lips back together in embarrassment. hogsmeade? with you? he wants to scream, yell, laugh, but his expression unfortunately remains blank with shock and he watches as your kind smile fades and is instead replaced by a weary frown. that’s not meant to happen.

“i—” ron’s voice comes out as a faint breath, and you’re sure he remains silent, staring back at you oddly. harry and hermione once again share a glance between each other in scepticism, and hermione quickly shoots out of her seat, unable to bear ron’s uneasiness for another second.

“he’d love to,” she voices for the boy, and watches as his ears burn red and his cheeks flush in embarrassment. nothing could be more mortifying than his own best friend having to accept your proposal of what seems like a date, and he winces at the unideal circumstances. he nods quickly, unable to tone down his large, growing grin the longer the realisation sets in.

he’s going to hogsmeade. with you.

you peer up at him, a small smile playing at your lips as you watch the bashful boy looking back at you. he is effortlessly cute, and you find yourself pushing up on your heels to press a short kiss to his cheek. ron finds it a miracle he hasn’t fainted yet, and he struggles to keep himself steady and his heartbeat at a normal pace.

he wonders how he’ll survive hogsmeade with you, but something about your comforting smile and kind eyes calms his nerves, and he finds himself eventually smiling down at you with equal warmth.

Cosy Night ↝ R.W

Ron Weasley x Female Reader

↝ Bethie’s Masterlist

Request? Yes from 🧚‍♀️ anon

Prompt(s): “You’re my best friend” + “Person A tucking Person B’s hair behind their ear.”

Summary: After spending a night with Ron’s family, Y/n and him cuddle outside and watch the night sky.

Blood Status: Any

House: Any

Year: Post-War

Warnings? None

Words: 0.7k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for participating and requesting I really enjoyed writing this cosy fic !!

Keep reading

It Was Love

PAIRING: Ron Weasley x GN!Squib!Reader

SUMMARY: At two in the morning, Ron receives a call from a hospital about three hours away about you who he hadn’t heard from for half a year. [loosely based on It Was Love by The Elected]

WORDS: 7.3k

WARNING(S): cursing, arguments, breakup, angst, financial problems, driving, hospitals, celebrating Christmas. [Y/S] means your size. this fic is told in switching timelines. Half-proofread! || SECOND PERSON

REFERENCE(S): Ness Point

A/N: i have a love hate relationship with this fic honestly djfhejwjw sorry if it’s messy istg if this flops- ANYWAY um i’ve been working for this for a longer time than i expected so uhsdjhrwiaka rushed the ending a bit mbad. please let me know via dms if there are any pronouns mentioned so i can fix it!

NAVIGATION || MAIN MASTERLIST || HP MASTERLIST

I. TO THE THENS || 2010

Miles from a place you used to call home, you stood on the surface of what used to only be in your mind and on paper. A beaming crowd surrounded you, and it took all of what you had to reassure yourself that they were there to congratulate you and not strangle you to death.

Gulping, you forced yourself to snap out of your dazed state and slip back into reality just after the woman behind the podium at the platform called out your name, waiting for you to come up and cite your speech.

Although you were hesitant, the looks of your coworkers and all the unfamiliar faces whose names you did not know told you they were all anticipating for what it was you had to say. So within a few moments, you were behind the podium yourself, marveling at the grand view before you, scrambling for all the right words.

You made this. You made it.

You cleared your throat. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and people and strangers,” you started, throwing in a nervous laugh, already regretting how you began. To your relief, you earned polite applause among the audience. “First and foremost, I would like to thank. . .”

You proceeded to mention countless names such as the firm you work for, the board of directors, your co-workers, and everyone else who had helped you on your architectural project.

“I am beyond honored to be here today, able to spend this moment with all of you as we witness a grandeur I am proud to say is my creation.” You took a deep breath. “Now, I have more I want to express my gratitude for, and so I’d like to raise a glass to an engineer and an architect.

“This architect did not build a single building nor design one on paper. One thing this architect did, however, is turn me into the person that I am today.”

You had to stop yourself from cringing at your words, the same words that just a second ago sounded so moving but now it sounds so . . . fake. You raised your glass, to which the others followed suit. “To the glorious past, to the thens we failed to protect yet never prevailed to shape us.”

II. THEN || March 1997

His hand on yours as the world moved around the two of you is a truth you’re thankful to preserve. He turned on the air freshener in an attempt to cover something up, worried you’d find it foul.

This was not the case with you, for you only laughed it off and, well, so did he. It’s the beautiful nature of your romance; it’s home, it’s something you’d be honored to go home to when all is lost.

“Ron, there’s no elegant way to say this but I can still smell it,” you said, using a part of your sleeve to cover your nose as you giggled.

“And away goes my honor and in comes shame,” he said with mock agony.

“Aw, how does it feel to fart in front of me for the second time ev — RON, KEEP YOUR HANDS ON THE WHEEL!”

He composed himself, and you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his ears turning crimson. “Sorry, second time? What are you — what do you mean?”

“Need I remind you the day I introduced you to my grandparents?”

“Yeah,” Ron started hesitantly as his shoulders tensed, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. “What — what about it?”

“You totally farted and blamed it on the dog,” you admitted, and Ron jerked his hand off yours, looking thoroughly offended.

He scoffed. “I totally did not fart and blame it on the dog.”

“Nope, I distinctly remember you saying ‘Oh no, champ’s got a package’ and your ears were as red as they are right now.”

“No, I did not do that and my ears are not red right now,” said Ron, but you kept your eyes on him until he finally gave up and groaned. “Fine, I may have done that, but it doesn’t mean I’m proud of it.”

You snorted. “Sure you aren’t.”

“I’m really not.”

“Okay, mate.”

Silence.

“I swear, I—”

“Merlin, Ron, let it go!” you said with a laugh. “It’s alright. I don’t hate you yet, if that helps.”

“I would say it doesn’t, but it really does.”

You nodded slowly. “Mhm, and what do you say?”

“I don’t hate you, too.”

“Good, now put your hand on my lap.”

“I thought . . . road safety?”

“Road safety my ass, like you care about that.”

He didn’t, for he let go of himself and rested his free hand on your thigh all the while you played with his fingers.

II. NOW || June 2004

Mr. Hoiss always hated Ron’s necktie. The old man constantly said that neckties were an insult to his ancestry, and that bow-ties were far more elegant. You always begged to disagree, though, having always tied Ron’s necktie everyday on his way to the Ministry.

But today, you’re not there to fix him up. You hadn’t been there for almost half a year now, and Ron had been wearing the types of bow-ties that were easy to put on in contrast to the neckties he considered too complicated to learn.

“Great tie again, Weasley!” said Mr. Hoiss, tipping his hat in greeting as Ron prepared to make his leave. “Going home early, yeah?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. . . ”

“Any plans today, Weasley?”

“I — uh — got a date this afternoon.”

“You are the man of the hour, kid. To moving on!” said Mr. Hoiss with a laugh resembling a malfunctioning car engine. “Take care, yeah?”

The least he could do was grimace and hope that Mr. Hoiss thought it was wide enough to be excused as a polite smile. Harsh as it may be, he forced himself to look at the watch you had given him.

01:48, it said. It could just as easily be a bright afternoon, but it isn’t — he’d worked overtime today, and so he hurried down to the Atrium and into the fireplaces, back to his empty house.

As soon as he heard the distant sputtering of his neighbor’s garden sprinkler, he let himself sink into his couch. He ran his fingers over the peeling surface of the leather couch, the orange of it more visible than ever.

He hated you.

He wanted to see you just so he could scream; he wanted you to come in through the door right now just so he could rip off the leather that remained on the couch, just . . . wanted you to come back home.

So that you’d help him do his necktie again.

So that you’d bring him to the store and buy a cover for your couch, looking for a pattern you could both agree on.

So that you’d be there.

Ron tugged his necktie off his collar and tossed it onto the cluttered coffee table. He stared at it for a good five seconds before standing up and rushing to the empty bedroom with wrinkled shirts and belts that resembled snakes the only things occupying the bed.

He swung the messy wardrobe door open and pulled out one of his striped ties. Taking a deep breath, he tried to put it on himself.

After doing so, Ron walked over to the bathroom, unsatisfied with his own reflection and how weirdly unfamiliar he seemed even to himself.

His necktie was a disaster: The back was too long to tuck to the keeper loop and there were subtle hints of his beard growing again.

Ron cleared his throat and picked up his razor and began to shave the length of his jaw.

“Argh!” Ron jumped. He’d cut himself a bit on the side and so he began to wash his face, blood mixing in with the water. “Merlin’s toenail. . .”

Ron covered it up with a small bandage. He could easily cure it, sure, but as much as he hated to admit it, having them on reminded him of when you put one on his fingers the day he met your grandparents: He was trying to open a can of soda when he felt a pang of pain on one of his fingers.

His wand was nowhere in sight as you’d been trying to minimize his use of it so you had hurried to the bathroom to fetch him a bandage and as soon as you came back, you cut its sides and put it on the small wound on his finger.

He couldn’t help but smile even as he touched the bandage on his jaw now, silly as he may have looked.

No, he thought. Get out. Get out of my head. Just get—

Something buzzed. Ron froze, his hand holding his razor defensively.

He remained still, waiting for an intruder to come hurtling through the door.

Nothing happened, but Ron could hear something . . . ringing?

Gathering himself, he searched for the source of the sound, tense. It seemed to be coming from the drawer. He dropped the unplugged razor on the surface of the cabinet and began pulling all the drawer boxes off its places and rummaged, tossing everything in his way such as a black velvet box, a bulky white envelope, and a knitted scarf and more until he found a bulky gray block. It vibrated and a loud sound came from it. Ron realized with a start that it was actually the phone you’d given him.

He fumbled with it.

“This is a nokia phone,” you had told him last year. “Muggles use it for communication, so you could call me whenever you’re out!”

“But we have owls for that,” he’d said.

“Oh, I don’t think I’d want some of those swooping in while I’m out for work.”

Ron snapped himself back, looking at the ringing phone in anticipation. Were you by some miracle finally calling him?

“Which button again? Right!” Gulping, he clicked the green button and held the phone up hesitantly to his ear, and he heard muffled sounds of busy chatter in the background.

“Hello?” Ron inquired. “[Y/N]?”

He winced at your name.

Just saying your name alone felt like a punishment to his throat, but it was also sort of a relief.

“Hello, is this Mr. Ronald Weasley?” said an unfamiliar voice. Ron froze, trying to think back on what your voice sounded like. Is this you?

“Hello?” said the voice again.

“Oh, er — yeah, you’re speaking to him — Ron — Ronald Weasley. Who’s this?”

Then came the news he was not at all enthusiastic to hear.

Did he want to hear from you? Absolutely. Did he want to know if you’re still out there? Of course he did.

But as he ran to the garage with rusty car keys in hand, he couldn’t help but think if it’s really worth it because at two o’clock a.m., Ron Weasley got in the car, about to drive to a hospital three hours away. For you, he was ready to drive at any time of the day and wherever such as what he's doing as of the moment: Driving from Weybridge to Lowestoft.

III. THEN || August 2000

“It’s a nice house,” Ron commented, his arm draped over your shoulder as you scrutinized the porch with narrowed eyes. “We can work with it.”

“Yeah, we could make a few changes. We’ll have one of those weird garden sprinklers those people next door have,” you said, arms crossed in thought.

“Could we shower in those?” Ron asked.

“Heck, why not?” you chuckled.

As soon as the two of you stepped inside, however, silence fell. Safe to say that as of this moment, both of you could see a future here: New picture frames sitting on the fireplace’s mantelpiece as the years go by, a full dining table and chairs occupied by not just the two of you but what would be your children, a very comfortable couch and so much more.

But for now, all you’ve got is a beat green bean bag in the middle of it all and each other. None of you were complaining.

“Shotgun!” Ron yelled before diving to it just before you could even open your mouth to say the same thing. Dust emanated from the bean bag, and only then did you notice the tiny white beads rolling away.

“You busted it!” you exclaimed, wagging an accusatory finger his way.

“Oh, give it a break, you were about to do the same thing.”

“No I wasn’t.”

Ron turned his back on you and began to pick up the white beads. You peeked from his shoulder and asked, “What are you doing this time?”

And in a blink of an eye, Ron had made it snow, throwing countless soft beads over the two of you, the laughter and the raining of soft pellets on each other as if in a snow fight creating a picture one would find worthy of being in a romantic movie.

It’s love, is what it is. Sweat trickling down your necks? Love. Tackling each other to the ground in fits of laughter? Love.

The littlest thing like the unruly bandage he wore long before? Heck, it’s love.

Soon enough, you found your way in Ron’s arms long after you two had wrestled each other to the floor, the ripped bean bag and its contents tucked to the side and it was only you, Ron, and the carpeted floor of your brand new home while your backs were to the wallpaper you had decided you’ll replace one day.

IV. NOW || June 2004 4:44 AM

It’s four in the morning, and you couldn’t believe it: A familiar face stepped into the room looking disgruntled as if he hadn’t slept but even so, his presence was homely nonetheless. He looked like he’d just shaved, though you’d say it was poorly done for you could glimpse a light stubble from afar.

Is that a bandage? you thought to yourself as you squinted your eyes to try and get a better look at him.

He was frantically searching the crowd, and when he reached the reception, he raked his hand through his hair, his ears red. A smile formed on your lips until his eyes caught yours and fell to the blue sling posing as support on your arm. His shoulders slouched, and his nervous expression turned into one of something that could only either be hatred or revulsion; synonymous, but rightfully so.

“Hi,” you said lamely with a hoarse throat, “you can go home now.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he gestured for you to follow him outside. You complied.

“Seriously, you can go now. I’m staying with a friend just a few minutes from here, I can take the bus.”

The hospital buzzed with busy people, commands being yelled back and forth between everyone, and you were both caught in the middle of it all even when he walked ahead of you.

The parking lot, on the other hand, was just as busy, only that it looked much more better being away from the stench of cleansing agents and such.

He stopped in front of a familiar car you knew too well and leaned on the driver door.

“Get in,” he said, not daring to look you in the eye again. You didn’t move, just studying him for the first time in a long time. Clearing your head, you crestfallenly walked over to the rear door.

“What are you doing?”

“Er — getting in,” you answered, stopping just shy of opening the door.

“Get in the front seat, I’m not your chauffeur.” With a scowl, Ron got in the car, starting it before you could even set foot into it. “Where to?” he asked blankly.

“The nearest gas station,” you told him.

“The nearest gas— are you out of your mind?”

You didn't say anything.

His hand stayed on the steering wheel, yet the car did not move one bit. He’s stagnant, both in his place and his mind. You fidgeted with your fingers, and Ron just . . . sat there.

“Look—”

He turned on the car stereo.

Static.

“Ron, I—”

“Don’t say my name,” he said as he switched the station until it landed on one playing the chorus of an upbeat song.

“Kind of unfitting, don’t you think?” you said in an attempt to douse his anger.

But he only stepped on the gas and began driving. By that time, the best you could do was just lean back in your chair and look out at the window.

Merlin, he hated how familiar and at home he felt in your presence. It’s like any other day, and he loathed the idea that it only takes you being there to throw him back to the routine he’d grown shamefully accustomed to.

A while later, a gas station came into view and you took off your seatbelt with your good arm. “Just drop me off there.”

He didn’t stop.

“Ron, just drop me off there.” He didn’t. He kept going straight ahead, not even looking at you as he did so. “Ron, I said—”

“I heard what you said,” he said with spite. It felt like forever until the car in front stopped as did the others around you.

“Where are we even going?”

As the car stopped at the red signal light, Ron turned to you, his face contorted in disbelief; and you could see from the corner of your eye that his hair had grown longer. If this was like any other normal day like you wished, you’d go ahead and tie his hair up and tell him how much he resembled Bill a bit more now.

Here’s the catch: Today is grim, a day considered both a death sentence and a pleasant merit.

V. THEN || 2001

Money was tighter than it had ever been and you couldn’t stand watching the love of your life struggle to keep himself together as to not let you think he was weak.

You saw the brave smile he’d give you whenever he’d kiss you before sleeping in each other’s arms, sure, but you also saw the conflict in that same gesture. Heard it, even. You heard it in his sugarcoated words of farewell every time he left for work right after you fixed up his necktie he couldn’t ever master learning.

But he wanted to give you everything even when he had nothing just as you did. Merlin, how he loved you with everything he owned: His eyes always seemed to linger a moment longer on you whenever you were around a crowd of your wealthy friends or loaded acquaintances whose necks were donned with jewels one could only dream of — just whenever you were both surrounded by riches: In a mansion both of you could not at all afford even if you tried and much more.

And so when he happened to be out in the open surrounded by riches put on sale by arrogant jewelers, he had his eye set on a ring resting in a red cushion cradled by an elegant black velvet box.

“How much is this?” he asked the Muggle jeweler, who then only looked him up and down and snorted.

He came home defeated that night, but not without at least a couple of consolation gifts: A new white formal blazer from the discount store, a garment Ron considered the best he could find; a slice of your favorite cake, also the best he could get; and the best smile he could give.

“Sorry I’m late,” he told you, pressing a kiss against your temple as he lay down next to you. “Happy birthday, sunshine.”

You stirred in your sleep, only moaning in response. Ron simpered at the presence of your comfort before he laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you out of habit and soon tapping his fingers lightly on your hand until he fell asleep.

You woke up earlier than him that morning, and you spent a good three minutes only watching his chest rise and fall as you got yourself out to brush your teeth.

By the time you had finished, you went over to the paper bag on the top of the drawer, its handle seemingly tired. You pulled out the blazer to try it on, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Goodness, when was the last time you felt like yourself? Something that tasted a lot like salt found its way into your lips, and you wiped away the tears from your eyes.

I love you, Ron! you thought as you made serious and formal poses, giddy at the thought of coming to the firm you were an intern for looking like a million bucks. You squealed in excitement and along came a vision: You could get married in this blazer. It was silly, but it could be your something old, even. One would think it was quite questionable to get married in a blazer, but who cares? You could see Ron standing in a make-do altar you and your closest friends had built all for the essence of an intimate wedding. Heck, it could also be in city hall for all you care but other than that, you could see yourself walking down the—

Something at the back itched. With a curious tug, you felt the price tag leaving a mark on your skin. Groaning, you took off the blazer and fumbled to find the price tag in it.

You gasped. He had spent too much. If Ron wanted to give you everything, you did so for him as well. You bit your fingers in conflict before deciding to brokenheartedly put it back in the bag and tell him later on before he went to work that the blazer doesn’t fit and that he should return it.

Which was wrong, you knew that, but money was too tight, right?: Paying for the house’s pricey mortgage, your weekly and monthly budget, funding Ron’s Auror training, funding your tuition for college. . .

“D’you like it?” he said as he stretched in bed, rubbing his eyes in the process of waking up. You were holding the blazer bunched up in your arms.

“Oh, yes, but it doesn’t fit,” you said with the lightest voice you could manage. In a time like this, you could only give or take.

And you chose to give.

“It doesn’t?” said Ron, hastily standing up to grab the blazer, checking the size. “But you’re size [Y/S], right? Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I’ll get it replaced later.”

“No, no, don’t do that, it’s okay. Besides, we’re saving up, remember?”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he came back after replacing the blazer with a necklace with a teddy bear for a pendant. You let it go this time because of that hopeful and expectant eyes of his that you’d like it. Stupid of him to assume that you didn’t love it. Laughing, you turned around after he put the necklace on you and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

But you wouldn’t let him spend his money on you again. He wouldn’t listen to you telling him you want him to have new clothes and not secondhand ones and that he should spend his money on himself, and so you resorted to what one may call tough love.

VI. NOW || June 2004 4:51 AM

He turned off the music and kept his eyes on the road. Cars were stopped just like yours while waiting for the light to turn green. It was still dark and the blinding white lights of the other cars overwhelmed you so.

There’s so much he wanted to tell you but all of this was contained in a furious face, hands gripping the steering wheel too tight, and unsteady breathing.

“I don’t know,” he said, “I was hoping you’d come home, and I hate hoping you still would.”

“Ron,” you said, treading lightly, “I can’t.”

“Right, because it’s so hard.”

“Ron, it’s not you.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? Because it’s you? It’s not me because it’s you, right? Because it always has to be about you.”

“No! If you’d just listen for—”

Ron gulped. “Where have you been, [Y/N]?”

You couldn’t find your voice. Explain, you willed yourself to say. Tell him what you want to say, it’s the least that you could do for him.

But try as you might, there were no words coming out.

“Go on,” said Ron, “explain.”

“I just — it’s for the best, alright?”

He took a deep breath, and you could tell right there and then that he was just furious.

“For the best? You — you left without even a word for half a year for what? For the best?”

“Ron, please,” you breathed, now looking at him for the first time again. You wanted to kiss his anger away, tell him how much you missed him, tell him you wanted to go home with him again, tell him it’s alright because you’re home now.

But such lies are only beautiful once carved on a headstone. You did want to go home with him but . . . nothing can be undone.

He gulped again, not looking at you as he angrily took a turn to the highway. “Oh, look! I took a right turn instead of going straight ahead because it’s for the best! Should I make U-turn in this one-way lane? Who knows? Oh, yeah, I’ll do it anyway because it’s for the best!”

You wanted to laugh. Even when he was angry there was that air about him that made you just want to pull him into a hug. Even this felt like home already. “Ronald, it would really help if you’d just listen to me—”

“Listen? No, you listen. You left on Christmas Eve, never called, never did anything for the past six months! Do you realize how stupid that made me? You think — you think I didn’t — that I don’t feel bloody shitty knowing that I think I’m doing my best when really it will never be enough for you?”

The sense of home was gone. “It is enough for me, what makes you think it’s not?” But your words were drowning in his and he isn’t even listening and so you sat there, taking this heavy blow you told yourself you deserved.

“Oh, yeah, now you’re asking me questions.”

“I’M A SQUIB, RON,” you cried, your chest heaving. “Do you know what a dirty word that is? And — and I know people look at you and think of you as the damned blood traitor boy who — who was going to marry a damned Squib!”

Silence. It was true; you knew you were going down and that you were dragging him down with you. You’d tried to keep the fact that you were a squib as hidden as hard as you can but it’s hard when you’re in love with someone from the very world that pushed you away.

Silence once more. He knew it, too. Your once epic romance would be the downfall of the both of you and it pains him that this is true.

“If it’s enough, then why’d you leave?” He turned to you, expectant, dismissive of what you just said. “If at least for once it was enough like you claim it to be, why’s it that the first time I heard from you in a long time was through a bloody call from a bloody hospital in bloody Lowestoft? Why’s it that the first time that I see you is you’ve got your arm broken — I’m not gonna ask — and why’s it that you keep on rejecting everything I give even until now?”

Because I love you. Because I want you to have what you want me to have, and you wouldn’t be able to give yourself everything if you give it all to me. “So you could stop rejecting everything you wanted for yourself.”

Even when you weren’t looking, you could tell he’d clenched his jaw tight. “What does that even mean?” muttered Ron.

You decided to take a gentler tone in talking to him to diffuse his mounting anger. “Take a turn and drop me off at Ness Point,” you said, expecting another full-blown speech.

Nothing happened.

After a couple seconds of silence, Ron obliged, defeatedly took a turn like you asked him to do.

The next few minutes went still, giving you time to busy yourself watching the stars above twinkle and as cars with overly blinding lights speed past just like that one night.

Exactly like that one night.

VII. THEN || November 2003 8:34 PM

Again, money was tight. You saw the way he came home crestfallen every time, how he always wore the same clothes in a routine. . .

On his way to work, you had kept your eyes on your task of tying his tie, not wanting to look him in the eye in fear of being seen completely. You managed a small smile before going your way upstairs, not even bidding him goodbye as he prepared to step into the fireplace.

The night he drove you back home by car from your internship orientation was unbearable for you always saw those worried eyes of his everywhere: Whenever he pulled out his wallet, whenever he caught you looking at something pricey, just whenever your eyes met his.

It was silent, the AC and your breathing the only things you could hear as cars drove past.

“Do you want to go to a drive-thru?” he had asked you timidly.

You didn’t look at him. “No,” you grunted in response.

“Come on, you barely ate, you could at least use some food.”

“No, Ron, I don’t want to,” you told him, stern.

“It doesn’t have to be grand, just say what you want and—”

“I said I don’t want to! Is that so hard for you to understand?” He was looking at you as if you had just set yourself on fire. You shifted in your seat to face your window, eager not to show the tears streaming down your face. Calming yourself, you said in a lower voice, “Just keep driving.”

But it was for the best, wasn’t it? If he had gone in to buy you some food, he would’ve struggled even more to fund his Auror training, and it would’ve already been a major cut down on your mortgage and not to mention—

“Why are you like this?” Ron said, half-whispering. You didn’t answer, not that you didn’t want to.

It’s just that you hadn’t a clue, either.

——

On the night before Christmas, Ron came home later than usual. Clearly, this year’s Christmas already isn’t as lovely as the past few years had been; you could tell from how sloppily you’d put together the decor, the gifts only being wrapped in brown paper bags and lousy ribbons.

It was ten in the evening and you heard him come into the bedroom and put something on the drawer right before pressing a kiss on your shoulder. You waited for him to leave and go to the shower.

Hesitantly, you sat up and grabbed the small yet fine white bag sitting on the drawer. Inside it you found a tiny black velvet box, the sight of it causing you to call up a colossal nightmare and a lovely daydream: One moment you’re walking down the aisle and being the cause of your husband’s downfall the next.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the box from which you found a ring exactly the way you said you wanted it to be. At that moment, you knew you wouldn’t let your name take down his. You felt your eyes prickle with tears as you listened to him humming in the shower.

I love you, Ron, you thought to yourself once more as you pictured what the ring would look like on your finger. At that moment, you had made up your mind. You stood up and pulled out the two piggy banks from under the bed; one had ‘ARCHITECT’ written on it and ‘AUROR’ on the other.

You took a deep breath before pulling the cap off both of them. You carefully put more than half of the coins from the ‘ARCHITECT’ piggy to the ‘AUROR’ one as to not interrupt Ron.

You grabbed an envelope from one of the drawers and put some bills in it, soon placing it inside the same drawer, its bulky figure seemingly innocent.

From where you stood, you could still hear the faulty garden sprinklers of your neighbor. This is home, you thought, however flawed it may be.

“Oh, where’re you going?” said Ron while drying himself as he watched you pack your bags lousily. “I got us ice cream, it’s in the fridge, in case you were wondering. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just going out to get grocery,” you said hastily as you zipped up your purse.

“It’s snowing outside,” he said, confused. “Is everything alright?”

“No, Ron, everything’s not alright because you just spent loads on a damned ring!”

“How’d you—”

“It’s on the literal drawer!” You ran your palm down to your face, disbelieving what you were doing. At this point, you just weren’t sure anymore. “You know we’re saving up, right? What about your Auror training, my future in architecture, this house. . . We could barely afford our necessities! And — and you’d be marrying me, a Squib! What they would think — what they would all think. . .”

You were spiraling. With countless thoughts tugging at your mind, you swung the door of your bedroom and went down to the kitchen. Ron followed you while hurriedly putting clothes on.

He caught up to you, pulling up your hands to his as you tried hard as you can to not look him in the eye. “Didn’t I tell you that I don’t care about what they think? I — I want to marry you just because. [Y/N], we’ll work it out like we always do, I promise.”

You looked at him; his eyes a scene that assured you it would all be okay. All those memories with him yet you could not recall one where he spoke with such tenderness.

I want to marry you just because.

It was tempting to be blinded by a promise, but you had seen it all before and you knew better. “I can’t do this right now. Actually, no, I can’t do this anymore.” You let go of his hands.

After subtly wiping a tear away, you pulled out your house key from your purse and threw it on the kitchen counter where he now stood hunched, leaning against it with a disheartened expression on his face you hated to see.

He watched as you walked out the door, the snow falling down as if it were a lovely evening.

Ron worried for where you went. You had left your scarf and it was cold as ever.

That night, he waited for you to come back home because you always did. He stood outside or pacing in the front porch or up in your bedroom and looking out the window for any sign of your return. . .

But there was never a sign of a small camper van pulling into the driveway.

He wrote to you by owl, hoping you’d respond. For the first few days, he lay in bed restlessly, worried. Were you still out there? Would you come back home?

He looked for you constantly, going to every place you’d been to together, having even bothered to use the phone you’d given him to call you. You never responded so he tried to call your grandparents, two of which told him they hadn’t seen you since your birthday and asked if you were both okay unbeknownst to Ron that you’d been staying with them for a while since leaving.

On his return to the Ministry, he came to work with slumped shoulders. Mr. Hoiss asked what was wrong with him, who then only shook his head.

Ron didn’t know how but the very next day most of the people knew about it already, giving him words of encouragement.

“It’s alright, Weasley. Let that Squib—”

“Don’t talk about [Y/N] like that,” he had said silently yet still bringing a hushed silence among the workplace.

He hated that it was only now that he realized the gravity of what would become of your relationship. He now saw the way you saw it. All of a sudden, it was all clear: Ron was aware of what everyone not limited to this department would think of the two of you — a laughing stock.

He shook his head, keeping his mind clear as he continued to complete his tasks for the day.

VIII. NOW || June 2004 5:16 AM

Despite the steady length of the road promising a dark night until the end of an era, you knew full well the sun would rise soon in just a few minutes.

The car halted and Ron sat still in his seat. With one look your way, he sighed before swinging his door open.

Ness Point; the most easterly point in the UK. From where you sat, you could hear the crashing of the waves, its tune innocent, calming. You watched as Ron stepped out to the open yet empty road, stopping by in front of one of the railings.

You hesitantly stepped out as well, following him.

“Ron?” you called out.

He turned around, his face contorted in confusion and (surprisingly) hope. “Would you have said yes?”

“What?”

“If I had popped the question on a better night, would you have said yes?”

In that one question, numerous answers sprung up in front of you, each one heavier than the next.

And out of all those answers, you happened to come up with the worst ones: “I don’t know, maybe.”

Across the round and striped platform from below, you found warm streaks of sunlight laying where it always rested. Ron kept silent once more until you began to trudge down the slope, following the railing until you made it down.

After a moment of taking in the scenery of the brilliant landscape that is the Ness Point, you turned around to find Ron, standing just a respectable distance away from you, also marveling at the view.

“Ness Point,” you breathed. “We finally made it.”

“I guess so,” said Ron.

“You know, if someone had randomly tapped my shoulder years back and told me I’d eventually get to see the sunrise from here at Ness Point, I’d have jumped up from my seat and demanded to have it happen right at that moment.”

“What if that random person said it would only be after you left me?”

“Well, Ron, I’d have slapped that random person across the face!” you said with a smile. For the first time since you first saw him, he laughed.

Words couldn’t even define how at home you felt when you heard that sound you had longed for an awful long time.

“I missed you,” said Ron. “It’s a weird feeling, y’know.”

“I missed you, too,” you told him, “and I know.”

“So would you have said . . . yes?”

“In a perfect world, I would.”

“That’s a very miserable answer to a very miserable question,” said Ron, his voice plain and desolate at the same time.

“I don’t know, I think the question’s vividly blithe.”

Silence again.

But this time, it’s a happy kind.

“Why the broken arm?”

“It’s a long story,” you tell him in an attempt to divert the prospect of telling it at all. You’d been staying over at your friend’s after leaving your grandparents’ home and as soon as you left, the first thing you had in mind was clear your name off the mortgage. It did not go well. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Sorry for not taking your name off as emergency contact.

“Thank you for not.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you, either.” The sun was rising now, and just a few strangers were milling about, some taking pictures by the wind turbine. “But I still can’t come home.”

Defeated, he only nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Your reassuring circles on his shoulder did the job of soothing him for just a bit, enough for you to reach out to his badly done necktie.

You untied it before putting it back on him again just like you did every single day before you left. He didn’t mention the money you’d left, the ring box you refused to accept, and the scarf you forgot to bring. He didn’t mention that he’d just decided to cancel his date this afternoon no matter how technically free he was now.

He was satisfied just letting you tie his necktie properly on him for possibly the last time ever.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Hoiss, you look dashing in a necktie.” You pressed a kiss against his forehead. Smiling, you pat his chest one last time, relishing the beauty and the harsh undertones of the moment. “Goodbye, Ron.”

With one last smile his way, you began walking away, leaving him watching you as you disappeared, his feet rooted to the ground.

So much he wanted to say was reduced to a nod and a longing look at the rising sun because no matter how hard he wept just as you did, you both loved.

IX. TO THE NOWS || 2010

You found yourself at one of the top floors, the tall windows looking out the countless lit buildings of New York, the idle and busy chatter supposedly trying to distract you not doing its job.

Beside you stood a young woman your age, and it took you a second to realize she was congratulating you.

“Oh! Well, yes, thank you,” you nodded, your mind elsewhere. “Er — may I excuse myself for a bit? I just need a second.”

Not a second. You needed a walk.

Wrong as it may sound to leave guests alone, you had to take a breather. You put your own not even half empty glass of champagne on one of the glass tables right before you slithered out of the crowd and into one of the elevators and into the dead of the night.

All you had was your phone and your wallet but you were pretty much lost. It took a long while for you to reach the sidewalk because of the parking lot but it was worth it as soon as you did.

Why?

Because a little ways down the road, a couple turns here and there stood a thrift store. It was closed, sure, but the windows gave you a jolly opportunity to window shop.

One garment stood out from the rest — a white blazer that almost resembled what you’d received years and years ago.

Maybe it was the champagne kicking in but within a few seconds, you had your phone out and the number of the phone you’d given your ex just a tap away.

Would he answer? It’s a long shot. . .

What would you even say? What would you even ask him, even?

You paced back and forth and back and forth until you finally decided on simply putting your phone away to walk back to your building.

Although it would be nice to tell him about the grand opening, your story’s perfect in itself already even when it had already met its grand ending.

You glanced at the white blazer one last time before turning away, leaving your sentiments alone from that very spot in front of the window.

No matter what the outcome had been, it was was love.

Or at least the closest you’ve come.

i probably should have lead with this

click here to be added to my POTTERVERSE taglist.

RON WEASLEY TAGLIST: @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @badass-yn @velvetcloxds @gingerale2017 @i-love-scott-mccall @niceandspicy-blog @suditi-says-chai-is-trash @bellatrixscurls @princess-jules47 @percyweasleyspuff @thenaivegirly @pottahishotasf @ferretboysupremacy

other half - ron weasley x reader

pairings: ron weasley x reader

gif isn't mine // join my taglist! 👀

w/c: 0.6k

summary: you and ron make up after a fight.

warnings: like one swear word. otherwise all fluff :)

a/n: this is written with a gender neutral reader, i didn't use pronouns in this blurb. this can also be read for any house!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s so hard to stay mad at you when you look like that.”

You glanced up at Ron from your spot in the Great Hall. You’d been giving him the silent treatment for the better part of the day, and now that dinner had rolled around, he had slid into a seat across from you before you realized he was coming.

“Like what?” you asked, breaking your vow of silence. You hadn’t wanted to speak to him, but you knew you had to eventually.

“When you look that pretty,” Ron breathed, reaching across the table to swipe a stray strand of hair from your face. It didn’t work as well as he’d hoped, since it fell back into your field of vision almost immediately, but the sentiment remained. It was the thought that counted, you supposed.

You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to your dinner, even though it had gone mostly untouched since you’d sat down.

“Come on, y/n, you can’t stay mad at me forever either,” he said pleadingly.

“Not forever, but for a little while,” you retorted.

“It was a stupid fight, you know that as well as I do,” he retaliated. “It shouldn’t have gotten so out of hand.”

“And yet, I still haven’t received an apology, Ronald,” you spat, standing up from the table and leaving your half-eaten dinner behind as you stormed out of the Great Hall.

It took Ron absolutely no time to catch up to you, his hand grazing yours as he tried to get you to stop without actually grabbing you.

“I’m sorry, y/n, okay?” he begged, which finally got you to stop and turn around to look at him. “It was a stupid fight,” he reiterated. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

You sighed heavily. “You’re right,” you said. “You shouldn’t have. The Slytherin Common Room probably heard you screaming.”

Ron ran a hand over his bright red hair, his eyes looking longingly down at you. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, reaching out for you. You sighed again as you let him pull you into his arms, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I don’t like fighting with you,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms back around him in response.

“And I bloody hate fighting with you,” he responded, pulling away from you to press a kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he said quietly. “I hope you know that, despite the fact that I’m a huge prat.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you chuckled at that. “Maybe,” you said with a grin, “but you’re my prat.”

Ron smiled widely down at you, before leaning down to press a heavy kiss to your lips.

When he pulled away, you put your hands up on his chest, though you didn’t push him away. “But don’t you ever say that shit to me again,” you warned, and he quickly nodded. “I mean it,” you said. Ron’s nodding became more vigorous as he put his right hand up in the air.

“I swear it on my life that I won’t,” he promised, and you finally gave him a soft smile, leaning back into his embrace.

“Are we good?” he asked quietly, swaying you gently back and forth in his arms.

“Yeah,” you breathed, glad that you weren’t angry anymore. “We’re good.”

“Good,” Ron said quickly. “You’re my other half, I hate not being close to you.”

You pulled away to look back up at him, and you found nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

“I love you, y/n,” he said quietly, and you smiled again.

“I love you, Ron,” you responded, and he leaned back down to kiss you again.

You hated to admit it, except not really. You loved the stupid ginger boy, holding you like there was no tomorrow.

And you were glad that everything between you had finally been settled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglists 💋

permanent taglist: @galadrien28 @maybesandohnos @anythings-n-everythings @your-sweetest-downfall @sassybadqueen

harry potter taglist: @marrymetheonott @planetkt @slyth3rinwh0re @rosiehufflepuff @zaidlyn @riddleswh0r3crux @tilldeathdonugget @dr4cking @theanxietyqueen17 @berrnuu @namoreno @ameliasbitvh @hey-there-angels

Ron Weasley x Reader: Biggest Fan

A/N: Been a while, did this on a whim. I did not read it again or edit it. Wrote it mildly intoxicated. Also in the second person now. Here you go!

Warnings: I think there’s one (1) swear word

To your distain, the Weasley’s were all sports-heads, but no one was more invested in the game than Ron. One look at his bedroom – plastered with rain-wrinkled game posters, ticket stubs, and cheekily smiling Athletes strutting around their poster – would have anyone understanding that. He was always so loud about it at school too, shouting with a mouthful of breakfast about some maneuver that some player on some team pulled off. Seated diagonally across from him at the Gryffindor table, simply trying to coordinate with Ginny about who was doing which part of the project, you were receiving way more of an earful than you bargained for.

Keep reading

Ron Weasley x Reader: Hero Material

AN: Thanks for all of the recent support. Here’s another fic before I settle in for the night: I never see any love for Ron!

Warnings: N/A

Everyone always thinks that a shy person is isolated from the rest of the world. They say nothing, so they must hear nothing, right?

Wrong. Y/N Y/L/N was always listening, always reflecting, and always thinking. Her mother told her that there was nothing wrong with being shy, and that her brain was enriched with thoughts without having to be clouded with the unnecessary. People felt comfortable talking around Y/N, and that’s the way she liked it. While she was more verbal with her friends, she spent her social life listening to others talk, react, and live. She seemed especially drawn to a certain mischievous trio of Gryffindors, and her friends always teased that she was just head over heels for Harry Potter. Y/N would chuckle, shaking her head softly.

Keep reading

I loved @vivithefolle‘s “Headcanon that Ron sleeps like a cat. Either curled up in a ball of adorableness or sprawled out in all his long-limbed glory.” so I decided to draw some cat Ron xD

Harry Potter preferences...

How you meet:

(Wattpad saw these first. I hope you all enjoy.)

Harry:

Regular P.O.V:

You and your best mate Hermione are walking through the Hogwarts Express trying to help your new friend Neville find his toad but you didn't seem to be having much luck, you come to a stop at a compartment with two boys, "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." "No." The ginger boy says. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see them." Hermione loves seeing someone do magic.

Your P.O.V:

But right now I just feel completely awkward standing here, I really wish she'd hurry up. "Aghhhemm. Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" I couldn't help but let out a slight giggle, there is no way that's a proper spell and judging by the fact the rat didn't change colour I can tell I'm right. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course, I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me. For example..." Hermione goes over and sits across from the young boy with glasses. She points her wand at his glasses and his tenses, he looks a little frightened, blesses him. "Oculus Reparo." The glasses, which noseband is battered, are repaired. The boy takes them off, amazed. "That's better, isn't it? Holy Cricket, you're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)...and you are...?" I give a small wave and they wave back, Now that I too realise he is Harry Potter, I become a little shy. The ginger boy speaks with a full mouth. "I'm...Ron Weasley." Hermione is a little grossed out that he speaks with a full mouth and frankly so am I. "Pleasure. You two better change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." She says and gets up and leaves then come back and look at Ron. "You've got dirt, on your nose, by the way, did you know? Just there." She points to where the dirt is and I can't help but giggle, Ron scratches his nose, embarrassed. "Bye, guys pleasure to meet you," I say walking away smiling and continuing to help find Neville's toad.

Ron:

Your P.O.V:

It's my first year at Hogwarts and I'm standing in the front waiting to be sorted into a house, I can't help but feel nervous I really hope I get into Slytherin, If I don't my parents will more than likely disown me. "(Y/N) Malfoy" Professor McGonagall shouts. I make my way to the front and all I can do is hope I'm in Slytherin. I look at my older brother by a year Draco and he looks back at me hoping the same as I. "Gryffindor." The sorting hat shouts, I'm not disappointed but I feel ashamed and like my family are going to do nothing but resent me for this, I make my way to the Gryffindor table and sit next to a ginger boy who I assume is a Weasley. "Hi, I'm Ron... Ron Weasley." I guess he was so busy stuffing his face he didn't hear my name being called, hmm oh well. "(Y/N)... (Y/N) Malfoy" I say feeling a little sad. "You're a Malfoy??? I'm guessing that's why you don't look too happy about being in Gryffindor." Ron says, and he's right I'm not happy, not happy at all. "Yeah, but I'll get used to it," I say wishing that I do get used to it because from now on this is more than likely the place I'll be spending my days every holiday.

Draco:

Regular P.O.V:

You've known Draco since you were ten, you had moved to his neighboured just before your tenth birthday and your mother was throwing you a party which was more for her than you honestly. When the party day arrived you stayed downstairs for about half an hour and made your way back to your room. About an hour later a young blonde haired boy had made his way into your room, he hadn't noticed you at first, that was until you spoke. "Ahem, may I ask why you're in my room?" He turned around shocked, and you couldn't help but let out a slight giggle. "I-I..." "Let me guess hiding from everyone?" and he nodded...

Your P.O.V:

"Thought so, me too... I'm (Y/N)... (Y/N/) (Y/L/N)." I smiled at him, he looked so peculiar with his bright blonde hair. "Draco... Draco Malfoy... And wait isn't this your party? How come you're not down stair with everyone else?" I couldn't help but laugh at him, he was confused as to why I was laughing though. "You sure do ask a lot of questions. And yes this is supposed to be my party but my mother is more bothered about herself than me so I left and decided to leave her to do whatever it is she wanted. Anyway, there's a spare bedroom down the hall, second door on your right if you want to hide there." I said smiling at him. "Thank you, (Y/N)... You're a real hero." I couldn't help but aww and laugh at the same time, and I couldn't help but think that I and he would be great friends no matter what.

Neville:

Your P.O.V:

I made my way through the Hogwarts Express finding my way into an empty compartment. Not too long after a young boy about my age stepped into my compartment. "H-H-Hi, h-have yous-seen a tt-toad by a-any c-chance? I lost m-mine." I couldn't help but think how adorable he was and I couldn't help but smile at the fact that he was stuttering. "No, I'm sorry I haven't sorry... But I can help you look if you like?" I smiled nicely at him. "O-oh yes please, tt-that would be great. T-thank y-you. I-I'm Neville Longbottom by the w-w-way." He beamed at me, holding out his hand for me to shake. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Pleasure to meet you." I shook his hand politely, and we went on our way to find his toad.

Seamus:

Your P.O.V:

I have just arrived at Hogwarts and I'm now waiting at the steps for Professor McGonagall to return. All of a sudden a young blonde boy starts speaking, "It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." And the students start whispering among themselves. "This is Crabbe and Goyle" He nods to his dimwitted sidekicks "and I'm Malfoy...Draco Malfoy." The ginger boy snickers at his name. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley. We'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. Don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." And he extends his hand towards who I assume is Harry Potter. "How about you leave them alone Draco," I say making my way through the crowd. "And who are you?" He asks me quite rudely. "Why would I tell you? You're nothing but an arrogant fool, and honestly, I think Harry is able to pick his own friends unlike you... I have a feeling Daddy paid for them to be your friends." All the students start whispering again, they're all shocked at the fact that I spoke my mind and insulted a Malfoy. "My father will hear about this." I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh please do tell, I'd love to give him a piece of my mind too, for raising his kid to be nothing but a complete imbecile." He walked away with a face full of anger and to be honest that just made my day, I then made my way back to another end of the crowd. Suddenly, a boy with short brown hair came to me. "I can't believe you spoke to Malfoy like that, you're pretty fearless aren't ya." He spoke with a strong Irish accent. "Well I don't back down from someone who's so stupid and thinks he can make fun of anybody and get away with it, it's not something I'll tolerate." I grinned at him as I said that. "I'm Seamus, Seamus Finnigan... May I ask your name?" "(Y/N) (Y/L/N), nice to meet you." I smiled holding out my hand for him to shake, and he gladly obliged.

Fred:

Regular P.O.V

You've been at Hogwarts for a month now and today you were heading to detention which you received because a girl next to you was talking and when Professor McGonagall turned round to check who it was the girl blamed it on you, which you weren't very pleased about and you swore to get her back with an amazing prank. But for now detention had to come first, you reached the class and saw your aunt mima stood at the front of the class and a pair of twins sat at the front desk.

Your P.O.V

"Hello Aunt Mima, sorry I'm late... What do I have to do?" I say as nicely as I can because right now I really don't feel like being here. "Well, sweetheart you'll writing lines, now boys be nice to (Y/N) while I'm gone." And away she walked. "So Professor McGonagall is your Aunt?" One of the twins spoke. "Yep," I said not really engaged in the conversation. "What're you in detention for then?" Again with another question I thought. "Because a girl was talking in class, and she blamed it on me. But she's going to regret it trust, imma get her back big time." I said rather confidently. "Oooh I like the sound of that, what're ya planning on doing, pulling a prank?" he said rather intrigued in what I had just said and his brother seemed rather intrigued too because he turned to look at me, and watching me waiting for me to reply. "You sure do ask a lot of questions... And yes a prank, how else?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Fair point, I'm Fred by the way, Fred Weasley... And this is George, George Weasley." Really... I think to myself, really. "George, A Weasley... I never would have thought... It's not that you too like a like or anything... I'm (Y/N) McGonagall, nice meeting ya Fred and George." After that, we all just burst out laughing. This was the making of a beautiful friendship.

George:

Regular P.O.V:

You're a year younger than George and didn't really meet him until you tried out for Quidditch, you loved playing ever since you were a kid. You made the team and you met George at your first practice, you were sat mocking everyone because they were being so boring and you just wanted to have fun. Suddenly a ginger boy who looks about a year older sat next to you.

Your P.O.V:

"What are you doing?" He asked. "Mocking everyone, isn't it obvious?" I couldn't help but giggle ever so slightly. "No, haha I mean why? Are you bored or something?" I couldn't help but smile that he finally figured it out, especially since it's a little obvious I'm bored haha. "Yes it's because I'm bored, this game is supposed to be fun and this whole thing has been a complete drag, we've been here twenty minutes and we haven't even started yet... Oh, excuse me for not introducing myself. I'm (Y/N) Lovegood. You are?" I asked wondering who this stranger could be, I've seen him around I just don't know his name. "George Weasley, and to be honest I'm bored too so let's mock people together." I laughed so hard at the fact that he wanted to mock people along with me. After I finished laughing I wiped away the tears that had formed from me laughing so hard. “Ok then." I agreed and we started to mock people and it was so much funnier and better now that I had someone doing it along with me. I couldn't help but feel really happy when I'm around him, I think I've officially found myself a new best friend.

(If anyone has any notes please let me know, or any ideas on what to write next etc... All help and notes are welcome. I appreciate any help given).

Harry Potter preferences...

Your BFFs:

Harry:

Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom

Ron:

Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley

Draco:

George and Fred Weasley

Neville:

Seamus Finnigan and Cho Chang

Seamus:

Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley

Fred:

Draco Malfoy and Cedric Diggory

George:

Oliver Wood and Pansy Parkinson

Harry Potter preferences...

Nicknames:

Harry:

For him; Honey

To annoy him; Snookums... He thinks it's just weird and he just doesn't like it.

For you; HoneyBear... He's always called you this and in return you call him Honey because he's the Honey to your HoneyBear

To annoy you; Ducky... You have no idea why he calls you this but it really annoys you and you don't like being called it.

Ron:

For him; Romeo... Because he's sweet and you know he'll do anything to protect you

To annoy him; Spider... Because you know how much he hates spiders and just him hearing the name he get's scared which you find adorable but he doesn't like you for it but he get's over it.

For you; Juliet... Because you're the Juliet to his Romeo and It also goes because of the fact that you're from completely different families and neither of them agree with your relationship but you don't care what they think

To annoy you; Clown... He calls you this because you like to experiment with makeup and he thinks you put too much on, he also calls you it because he knows how much you're scared of clowns and he calls it payback for calling him spider.

Draco:

For him; Prince... you call him this because he's the prince of slytherin and he's a real prince towards you, which people don't expect from him at all.

To annoy him; Dracy Poo.. You call him this because you know how much he hates that name... You always do it in a Pansy voice as well which causes him to scrunch his nose up in disgust which you find cute but funny at the same time.

For you; Kitten... He calls you this because he thinks you have the most sweetest and bubbliest personalities ever just like a kitten, he also calls you this because he thinks you're just as adorable as a kitten and he likes the fact that you're all his.

To annoy you; Pickle... Which you hate and he finds you so cute when he calls you it and you look at him in disgust... You think pickles are disgusting and you just hate the name just as much.

Neville:

For him; Sweetcheek... you call him this because he's the sweetest guy you have ever met and he has the most adorable chubby cheeks and you called him sweetcheeks once and it just stuck.

To annoy him; you don't have a name to annoy him with because you just don't see the point in them.

For you; Buttercup... he just randomly called you this and it just stuck, he never really tried to call you anything else because he liked this one since the moment he called you it.

To annoy you; same as his he doesn't see the point in it so he just doesn't.

Seamus:

For him; Stud muffin... which you call him because you think he's a really stud and you love muffins just as much as you love him so you thought it was a good nickname for him.

To annoy him; Bomber... You call him this because he has a thing for blowing things up which you find cute but he gets really vexed when you call him bomber because he knows you're taking the micky out of him and he doesn't like it when you do.

For you; Cupcake... He calls you this because nearly every time he see's you, you're eating some sort of cake and he thinks the nickname really suits you.

To annoy you; he can't really think of a name to annoy you but he's trying so hard to find one because he wants to annoy just as much as he annoys you.

Fred:

For him; Future Husband/Handsome... You've always called him this because you've always been great friends and you love to call him it especially in front of Angelina Johnson because you know how much it annoys her.

To annoy him; BFG (big friendly giant)... You call him this because he is so tall compared to you and you hate it... but not as much as he hates you calling him bfg.

For you; Future Wife/Gorgeous... He calls you this all the time and it doesn't matter if it's in front of no one or in front of a thousand people he'll still call you it.

To annoy you; Munchkin... he calls you this because you're so much smaller than him and he loves your annoyed face that you get when he says it because you hate being called anything related to being small.

George:

For him; Superman... You started calling him this after you were knocked off your broom and he swooped down to catch you and you've always felt like he'll be there to catch you when you fall and to you superman was the most perfect fit for him.

To annoy him; The failure of pranks... He acts all offended every time you say it which you find so cute so you say it a lot which caused him to start getting annoyed by it but he doesn't really understand why you always say.

For you; Lois Lane... He calls you this right after you call him superman, he says if he's superman then you're the Lois Lane to his superman.

To annoy you; Teachers Pet... he calls you this because you're McGonagall's niece and he loves how annoyed you get when he says it, he also loves that every time he calls you it you start pulling pranks on all the teachers.

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite Gif of you:

Harry:

He loves that you're so photogenic and he loves seeing you smile.

Ron:

He loves that you eat just as much as him. He also loves how comfortable you are with yourself and how you don't care what others think.

Draco:

He loves watching you doing your little dances when your bored he thinks you look so cute when you do them.

Neville:

He thinks you look so adorable when you do things like this... He can't help but smile along with you.

Seamus:

He loves how you don't let anyone step all over you... He like that you're not afraid of anyone even the Malfoy's.

Fred:

He loves the fact that every time he turns to look at you, you get all shy and he finds it so cute when you're shy.

George:

He thinks you have such a cute yet crazy side and he loves it so much.

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite photo of you with your BFF/s: (Part 1)

Harry:

With Hermione;

With Neville;

Ron:

With Luna and Ginny;

Draco:

With Fred and George;

Neville:

With Cho and Seamus;

Seamus:

With Luna;

With Ginny;

With Hermione;

All of you;

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite outfit on you:

Harry:

Ron:

Draco:

Neville:

Seamus:

Fred:

George:

Harry Potter preferences...

How he asks you to be his girlfriend:

Harry:

His P.O.V:

She was sat quietly in the library reading a book about magical creatures to kill time as she had nothing better to be done for the rest of the day. When suddenly, BANG! A loud noise was heard throughout the entire library, I could see her wondering where that noise came from. I hope she doesn't notice it was me, not just yet anyway. She stood up searching for where that sound came from. So, I stood still behind the old, dusty shelf, waiting for her to come wandering around the corner to find the surprise, I have on my invisibility cloak so she doesn't see me yet. Finally, I see her trotting along to where I made the noise. She looked around as she noticed the little box I placed there for her, waiting and anticipating for her to open it.

Your P.O.V:

I heard a loud noise coming from behind the shelves in the library and before, I knew it my feet took me towards the sound. When I got here, I saw nothing but a tiny little box wrapped in a nice mint green wrapping paper and a golden ribbon. I picked it up wondering who's it could be when I saw a tag attached so I made the decision to check and see who it belonged to. Once I looked I noticed it had my name on it, hmm how peculiar I thought but yet it was so exciting, so I opened it to which a whole bunch of confetti and fireworks flew out, BANG! WOOOSH! WOOO! I looked up to discover the fireworks spelling out, 'WILL YOU (Y/N) (Y/L/N), DO ME THE HONOUR OF BEING MY GIRLFRIEND? - HARRY POTTER' wow, how beautiful I thought, I could not help but have the biggest grin on my face. Suddenly, I hear a noise from behind me, "so, will you?" it was Harry, I just looked at him with the biggest smile ever, this was the best day of my life. Obviously, I nodded my head frantically because of course who wouldn't, it's THE Harry Potter, every girl loved him, and of course, I was one of those girls, and I am still one of those girls.

Ron:

Your P.O.V:

I've just finished my last lesson of the day and have now decided to go find Ron, I haven't seen him the past couple of hours and I'm worried about him, what if he's sick. I saw Harry and Hermione walking my way and who better to ask about Ron than his two best friends, am I right? "Harry, Hermione, have either of you seen Ron anywhere?" I politely asked. Harry was looking at me in this weird way, and it began to make me feel as though I had something on my face. Hermione elbowed Harry in the ribs which to me was rather odd, but nevermind that I need to find Ron. "Oh, Ron is in the kitchen with the house elves, feel free to go find him," Hermione told me. I could tell she was trying to hold back a huge smile but I wonder why. Hmm, oh well I'll just talk to her about it later. "Ok, thank you," I replied and set off walking towards the kitchen. It took me ten minutes to get here but at least I finally arrived. I walked through the doors to see Ron covered in what seemed to be flour. 'Huh, I wonder what he's been up to.' "Ron, what are you doing? You look like a complete mess." I spoke. "Oh, (Y/N), you're here, erm I was just making cupcakes." The minute I heard the word cupcake, I rushed over, grabbed one and took a bite. "Bloody hell (Y/N), you were supposed to read them first." 'Oops,' I thought. "Ronald, seriously? How was I supposed to know that? And besides, its cupcakes how can I hold back from eating one." I said. "Look, I'll put it back and read them," I spoke again. Lucky enough I only took a small bite and the letter was still written on the cupcake. "Good." He replied. I placed the cupcake back where I got it and look at them to see it said '(Y/N) WILL YOU DO ME THE HONOUR OF BEING MY GIRLFRIEND?' as I read it I felt a small tear drop onto my hand. I then turned to look at Ron with a huge smile on my face. "Ronald Weasley, I would love to be your girlfriend," I spoke ecstatically, knowing that this is the start of a beautiful relationship.

Draco:

Regular P.O.V:

You were sat at the Gryffindor table when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You turned around to see Crabbe stood there with a beautiful white rose. 'Hmm, my favourite.' You thought. "Follow the roses." Was all he said and pointed towards the Great Hall doors. You arose (no pun intended) from your seat and began walking towards the doors. There stood Goyle with another rose in his hand. 'How peculiar' you thought. "Keep going." He said. So you walked through the doors and heard Fred and George shouting your name. "(Y/N), This way, come on (Y/N), move those legs." Which caused you to laugh at them. 'Oh Merlin, these two are strange' you soon arrived in front of them and the boy gave you a rose each. "Just a few more to go." then pointed in the direction in which you're supposed to walk. You looked at the end of the hall and saw Ron standing there and began to make your way there. "Almost there, just head that way," Ron said nodding his head in the direction in which you're supposed to go while handing you another rose. You were so confused as to what was going on but you felt so intrigued to find out what was going on and how it all ends. You continued your walk and came to find Harry with another rose. "Just one more of these and you're there." 'Huh,' you thought. You then began to quicken your pace to see what was lying ahead. You came to a stop when you found Hermoine with the last rose. "Just there." She spoke in her soft voice and pointed outside towards the Whomping Willow, you took the final rose and made your way there. You came to a halt when you say 'Be Mine? - Yours Truly, Draco' written in rose petals. You heard someone say "ahem" from behind you and turned to see Draco. "I would love to be yours." You told him. "Good, and don't say anything about me asking Potter and his friends to help. I did it for you and that's all you need to know." You giggled at what he had said and thought to yourself. 'Best. Day. Ever'

Neville:

His P.O.V:

So, today's the day I've finally decided to ask out my crush. Her name is (Y/N). She's so beautiful, she has (H/L) (H/C) hair that frames her face perfectly. Her smooth (S/C) skin is radiant when the sun hits it just right. And her li- "Hey Nev, you ok?" A voice pulled me from my thoughts, it's her, oh Godric I'd know that angelic voice anywhere. "Ugh, erm, yeah. I'm good. I'm just getting a couple of books to study. Are you ok? And what you up to?" I already know what she's doing, I know her schedule better than my own and I know she's here to do a bit of light reading but I wouldn't want to say that out loud I mean she will think I'm a complete freak just like everyone else already does. "Oh, ok. You look a little a pale and I thought you might be feeling a little sick, but anyway I've just come for a bit of reading, would you care to join me?" I could listen to her talk all day. "Oh, sure. I'd love too, that would be great, I mean only if I-" "Nev, you're rambling, now just come on, let's go find some seats." "Yeah, sure," I told her as we began walking, we walked all the way to the back of the library and sat down on the seats further back. 'Ok,' I thought 'time to put this plan into action' "Nice book that, how far have you got?" I asked, trying not to let the nerves get the better of me. "I'm just on chapter thirteen, and honestly it seems pretty good so far." "That's good. Can you do me a favour? Go to page five hundred and twenty-one, line seven." I asked her, god I hope this goes well.

Your P.O.V:

Huh, Nev seems to be acting a little strange but that can wait. I've decided to do what he's asked and went to the page and look at line seven. The words 'This was his moment, it was time to ask her, but will she say yes...' Wait. What. Is he... Oh my gosh... He's asking me out. "Oh Nev, yes, yes, yes thousand times yes." this is the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I'm glad it was Nev, I mean I've adored him since we met each other in my compartment of the train.

Seamus:

Your P.O.V:

I was walking down the hall when I noticed if I didn't hurry up I would be late for my next class. I parted ways with my friends and scurried off down the hall towards potions. There's no way I can risk being late considering the fact that I have Professor Snape for a teacher, he's so heartless and doesn't even give you a chance with anything if you're not Slytherin and guess what I'm not Slytherin. I walked into the classroom and realised that he wasn't here yet, phew, I thought. I took my seat next to Seamus as I usually would but for some reason he looked extremely nervous, I wonder why? But before I could ask Professor Snape walked in. 'Great' I thought. The class proceeded as normal and halfway through making my potion, I heard the usual bang come from the side of me, which usually meant Seamus messed up his potion, so I turned to the side to help him fix things as I'd normally do. Only this time I noticed something different. I saw the words 'Will you (Y/N), please be my girlfriend' written within the smoke. I looked at Seamus who said "Will you?" with a nervous smile etched on his face. "Yes, definitely yes," I spoke with excitement laced in my voice. "Miss (Y/L/N), Mr Finnigan. Detention." I heard Professor Snape say The one thing I didn't want to happen today, happened. But in all honesty, it's definitely worth it.

Fred:

Regular P.O.V:

Today's the day for the Quidditch match. It's Gryffindor VS Slytherin to see which team shall win the final match of the year. Yet even though you should be cheering for Slytherin you're not. In fact, you're actually cheering and screaming for Gryffindor instead, all you keep doing is cheering for Fred Weasley, your crush and George. All you want is for them to win but at the moment they only have 70 points and Slytherin have 80, which of course you're happy with because it is your house team but you'd be so much happier if it was the other way around. You're pulled from your thoughts when you saw a bludger come your way but before it had the chance to get close enough you saw Fred fly down to save the day, he hit the bludger away then turned to you to give a sly wink. You couldn't help but let the blush form on your face. Then all of a sudden they called for a time out and everyone began chattering among themselves confused as to what was going on. Then suddenly Fred was in front of all the players with a microphone at hand "So," you heard him say, you looked right at him to see what he was about to do next. "We all know this gorgeous girl that I always have by my side, she's my partner in crime, well my other one, I also have George." You couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well, anyway, she's perfect and I've been crushing on her for a long time now and well I have this for her." And randomly the team started flying around to spell out. 'Will you please go out with me?' and then Fred began flying towards you. You stood shocked. He arrived right in front of you and said: "So, (Y/N) will you be mine?" You stood nodding your head vigorously not knowing what to say because you felt as though you couldn't trust your words. Fred smiled at you as though he'd won the lottery and screamed through the microphone 'she said yes' and the whole crowd began to go wild. You felt as though you had never been happier in your whole entire life than at this moment right now. This is the start to a beautiful life to a guy you've been in love with for quite a while now and you can't wait to see what the future has in store for you both.

George:

Your P.O.V:

I was sat with Fred in the Gryffindor common room waiting for George so that we could go get dinner, but I wonder what's taking him so long. Suddenly Fred stood up and told me to follow him. "But what about George?" I asked, "Don't worry, we're off to find him." He replied. So I stood up and began to follow him, we had a small conversation about his pranks and how good he feels his and George's prank will be. Next thing I knew we had arrived in the middle of the Quidditch field and saw a beautiful picnic laid out. "Fred, what's going on?" I asked but when I looked up he was nowhere to be seen. "Fred... Fred..." I kept shouting but he wasn't anywhere near here. I sat down on the blanket, wondering what was going on when all of a sudden I felt someone grab my shoulders while screaming boo. I jumped, feeling frightened. I turned myself around to see George stood there, I picked up a pillow and began hitting him with it while screaming at him, telling him how much of an idiot he is for scaring you like that. "Ouch, ouch, stop it, woman, I'm sorry." He said while laughing. "Yeah, you better be, now what the hell is all this you idiot?" I asked. "Well, this dear is a date." He replied. "Oh," I said. "So, erm, (Y/N) how about I teach you to fly." George suddenly said. "Ok," I replied. We got up and he began to teach me how to ride a broom. We had now been doing this for about an hour when all of a sudden I began to lose my grip. I began to fall off my broom and screamed for George and he swooped me into his arms. "Why thank you for saving my life. You're my hero, my very own Superman." I said while laughing "Well if I'm Superman can you be my Lois Lane?" George asked with seriousness laced within his voice which caused me to stop laughing. I stared straight into his eyes and replied with "Nothing would make me happier than being Lois Lane to your Superman." And with that, he flew you back toward the ground where you sat and finished your picnic while waiting for the sunset to come. (You told him about Superman because you're muggleborn and know all about him, so you thought it would be fun to tell him about superheroes and anything related to them).

Harry Potter preferences...

His favourite outfit on you: (Part 2)

(Updated, and completely new outfits. The other ones were made a good few year ago and now I’ve made new ones inspired by the old ones).

Harry:

Ron:

Draco:

Neville:

Seamus:

Fred:

George:

(Hopefully these outfits are better, and more up to date and fashionable)🙂