In the bleakest of moments, Ron thought he had lost two brothers in one day. Though Harry had a miraculous escape from death, Fred, however, had not.
He helped them line up the bodies for identification. Held the hands of families as they came to take their children home for the last time. But found himself somewhere else when it was time to move Fred.
He had to be strong. George could grieve, his Mum and Dad could grieve, Bill and Ginny and Charlie and hell even Percy could grieve, but not him. Someone needed to keep the Weasleys afloat and that was Ron. That was always Ron.
He didn’t have time to grieve. There was work to do.
After the funeral, everyone’s funeral, Mcgonagall found him with one of Filch’s brooms, sweeping rubble into a pile in the Gryffindor Common Room. She almost asked him what he thought he was doing before she transfigured her robes and joined him. Ron was pleased to see even her trousers were emerald green.
Others came in and out, each of the Weasleys helped in their own time, he saw Lee Jordan and Oliver Wood arguing about bludger etiquette while repairing a staircase. Even Tonks’ Mum and Dad came, they brought Teddy, Teddy with whom Ron shared a secret with that he couldn’t tell anyone else yet. He swore his hair changed to an even lighter shade of blue as he giggled.
Only Ron and Mcgonagall where there every day. Every day. For a year.
Ron went home to the Burrow to make sure everyone was eating and to Grimmauld Place to make sure Harry hadn’t become part of the wallpaper and spent nights with Hermione in her flat but whenever he came back Mcgonagall was already there. He’d convinced himself that she never left.
“You’ll be Headmistress. Next September.” He told her, with a voice too certain to be argued with and even though she tried to seem displeased he saw her smile beneath her frown.
He invited the Gryffindor boys out for a pub lunch, Harry was a no show, but it was just as well, Ron had already booked the table for four. Neville looked well, Ron realised how much he’d changed in the year that himself, Harry and Hermione were on the run. His shoulders didn’t collapse in on themselves, he laughed wildly, even took the mick out of Seamus. Ron guessed that’s what flipping the bird to the dark lord and beheading a horcrux snake with a legendary sword did to your confidence.
Not to mention Dean and Seamus. Ron couldn’t contain his excited glances at Neville every time they so much as looked at each other let alone held hands or shared a quick kiss as one of them left the table. “When did this start? Officially?” Ron asked to which Dean answered “The second we climbed through that portrait.” Without needing any clarification as to what Ron was asking. “You’re welcome.” Neville added over his pint.
Ron’s heart swelled. He had to hold his hand over it to stop it from pumping out of his chest. But it awakened something in him that he’d forgotten. Something very important that he’d been pushing down.
He returned to the Burrow. Made two cups of tea. And talked to Fred.
His brother hadn’t appeared as a ghost, he’d checked every inch of Hogwarts, he was sure of it. But that didn’t mean Ron couldn’t feel him. He noticed him every day. Even when he tried not to. The echo of laughter. A whisper over his shoulder. A gust of wind that whipped his hair over his face. “You’re right, I need a haircut.” He said to the empty chair across from him.
George found him like that, a tear rolling down his cheek, and joined him. Then Molly. Then Ginny. Until every Weasley was sat around the table. Including the one in the empty chair. They talked to Fred and about him. And slowly, without anyone noticing, the clock moved Fred “home”.
May came around and all the repairs were done. The castle would never look like it used to but it was in one piece and it was steady. Strong. Ready to welcome hundreds of new students in September. They’d be playing catch up for the first few years but everything would be sorted soon enough.
Ron met Harry in the Great Hall, still not quite believing that he’d come at all, but quickly led him away from the crowd with a promise of a surprise. “Stand here.” Ron ordered once they’d reached the courtyard, placing Harry in front of the fountain. “Revelio.”
The facade fell away to reveal a monument. A tribute to the fallen. “Ron, I- It’s too much my Mum and Dad. What about everyone-”
“That’s funny.” Ron interrupted. “I can only see Fred.”
“It changes depending on who and when you look at it.” He’d explained to Mcgonagall months earlier. “Whoever they need to see the most at any time, that’s who they’ll see.”
“Whenever I’m feeling my weakest, I see Colin. And when I need hope I see Lupin and Tonks. But mostly Fred. Always Fred.”
The enchantment had taken months. For the whole of January it was stuck on Aragog. (You had to mourn the spider, Hagrid.) But it was going to be so worth it, even just to make Harry Potter cry for only the second time in a year.
Mcgonagall pulled him aside once they’d revealed the statue to everyone. Harry was laughing through his tears now, unable to stop what seemed like a never-ending flow. “We did that.” Ron spoke as he looked out at all the faces both flesh and stone.
“No, Professor Weasley. You did that.”
“You’ll be teaching Transfiguration. Next September. Now come along and help me convince Potter to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Curses bounce off that boy.”
Well, thought Ron, eyes welling up as he grinned, there’s work to do.
