ron weasley.

Neville had been relieved to see a familiar face, especially with how anxious he was feeling. He’d heard Ron had been found alive, but nothing more, nor had he spoken to the ginger since Voldemort’s fall. He regretted not checking in earlier. He seemed different. “Yeah, that’s ‘im!” He perked up in hope, surprise, grateful Ron had remembered, only to look distressed again a moment later. “Oh. Okay. That’s alrigh’, Ron. Well, if you see ‘im…” He trailed off, figuring the man would know exactly what to do.

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” Before, at Hogwarts, Ron would have made a sarcastic remark about how flighty Neville’s pet was, before offering to help find him. But now, at risk of sounding like a selfish prat, he couldn’t bring himself to care enough. Not that he didn’t want Trevor to be found, he just lacked the the energy to help search.

“– Sorry,” Neville stuttered as he approached, hands fidgeting with his top. “But have you seen a toad at all?”

Ron had been in the hospital for a few weeks after they’d found him. He wasn’t greatly injured, just malnourished, but the tests they’d ran on him in the Capitol could have had long lasting effects they were unsure of, so the doctors had checked him over and over again. Nothing yet. Including his magic. 

“— no, Am, just sit down and eat your cookies.” The weather hadn’t been too bad that day, and neither had her mood, so Glimmer decided a walk and play in the park for the duo was achievable. That was, until, Amethyst had decided to throw a tantrum, desperate to scurry off and explore and not sit by her mother’s side, like she’d been asked to. Frustration was typical when you had a defiant child, but the more the girl squealed, the more shaken Glimmer became. “Amethyst! I said sit down.” She tugged on Am’s hand to pull her back, but the girl screamed ‘no’, growing more upset, resisting every touch. Flinching at the noise, embarrassment and frustration overcame her. With no clue of how to handle her daughter, Glimmer simply let go. Immediately, Amethyst twisted free and skipped down the path. Glimmer stared after her, the rage hitting her chest, feeling a sob form in its place. If she didn't want to listen, that couldn't be Glimmer's fault. She'd tried. Attempting to stop the tears, sucking in deep breaths, the blonde stood on helplessly as her baby wandered further away. Rationally, she knew she should do something, even just follow her, but she just couldn’t bring herself to. She was clearly a terrible mother anyway, so what was the point in trying?

Although Ginny had jumped right back into her relationships since reuniting with the rebels, Ron had gone the opposite way. He felt cold, and distant, as though he’d forgotten how to interact with anyone outside of his cellmates and his sister. It was no secret that she was the stronger sibling, the more social, but Ron had found it hard to even spend time with his best friends. They’d won the rebellion without him, and it reaffirmed his greatest insecurity, that no one truly needed him. 

If there’d been rain in Alexandria since her time there, Johanna had been too hazed out to notice. Her skin visibly paled as she saw it fall outside now, her hand flush against the door to the training centre, unmoving, blocking everyone else’s way. She was trapped. There no way she could leave now, no way to escape the staring. She’d have to wait.

Ron had been a captive alongside Johanna for years, so it took him no time at all to decipher what was wrong. She hated water, she feared it, especially when it fell. He approached her slowly, with tenderness, the kind they’d offered each other back in the Capitol. “Come on. We’ll go back inside.”

friends aren’t allowed to kiss one another. ” neV

Ron’s eyes widened as Neville explained his potential last sighting of Ginny, a slight semblance of hope returning to his features. He knew, realistically, that she wasn’t in any danger. That she was a in a protected, bordered town, with her friends. But considering their history, and the suffering the Capitol had enforced them to endure, he could no longer afford to be dismissive. “Uh - yeah, cheers, mate. Thanks.” Despite his sour mood, Ron was genuinely appreciative of the help, whether it was accurate or not. He smiled. “She’s always sticking her nose into a bloody book lately. I’m starting to think she’s turning into Hermione.” Or trying to distract herself from the more sinister thoughts that plagued them both.