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Despite the darkness of the early morning outside, the cottage bursts with light from within.
Ron chuckles as he moves through the front yard, following the designated path to not step on any invisible creatures or children’s toys. He can feel eyes on him, but the moment he glances at the open window, the tiny watcher ducks away.
Giggles fill the night around him.
The front door slams open, and the patter of little footsteps races towards him; if this hadn’t happened a million times before, he’d most likely fall on his ass. However, he knows to brace himself and catch the five-year-old cannonball barreling toward him.
“Oi, shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s nearly two in the morning,” he asks, shifting the child to his hip and starting his way down the path again.
“Mum said I could stay up if the gnomes said it was okay,” Gaia tells him matter-of-factly. She’s much more pragmatic than her mum, but her pixie wing and astronaut boot wardrobe give her away as a Lovegood. The bright white-blonde hair doesn’t help much, either.
“Of course she did,” Ron snorts as they enter. The cottage is everything Luna. From the hand-painted mural on the wall of magical creatures that he can’t even begin to name to how all of the furniture is second-hand and has some backstory from where it came from. The majority of those backstories include death and haunts.
It reminds him of the Burrow, but better because it’s his.
He kicks the door behind him and scans the living room for signs of life. Well, human life. He spots a pile of Puffskeins in the corner, vibrating at the possibility of a new friend that would remember to feed them.
“Where is your mum?” he asks as he somehow shrugs off his backpack while the child still holds onto him ridiculously tight. He’s sure he will have rug burn around his neck from how tight she’s holding on.
Gaia shrugs, her curly white-blonde hair shining in the fairy lights that decorate the entire ceiling of the room. She’s going to be a Ravenclaw; it’s obvious. “With Fred, I suppose.”
“Let’s hope. Otherwise, we’ll have to Floo Uncle Harry with a missing persons case,” he says, making her squeal with more giggles as they head into the kitchen. “Did I miss anything exciting?”
Gaia wavers, and he raises a ginger eyebrow. “Rose Malfoy wants to be my girlfriend.”
His other eyebrow pops up, and now his face is full of surprise. “Yeah? Hope you told her you’re too young to be dating.”
Gaia gets all sorts of red and blushy. He hadn’t known that Gaia liked girls like that, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll give a good yell at anyone that has a problem with it too.
“I said yes,” she mumbles into his shoulder.
“Fine, but no kissing,” he sighs. This one was going to be Trouble with a capital T when she got to Hogwarts. Poor McGonagall.
Everything looks the same as when he left two weeks ago. The wooden butcher-block table is still chair-less, and all the placemats and table settings are underneath it instead of where they should be. There are still dishes in the sink, cleaning themselves with purple bubbles.
Gaia’s drawings are on every inch of the fridge in the corner; he can’t even find the handle anymore. She helps him through the struggle to open the door and find a beer.
He takes a sip of the cold liquid, letting it wash down his throat and truly cementing the feeling of home. They plop on the couch together, and Gaia stares at him with big green eyes, an attribute of her father, daring not to blink lest she misses something.
“Did you bring me anything from America?” she asks, a smile lighting up to match her big eyes.
Ron sighs dramatically. “Is that all I’m good for? Presents?”
“Yes,” she answers. Ron snorts into his beer. “Dad brought me Puffskeins! Two of them!”
He glances at the vibrating pile again; there are way more than two. He’s positive they’ve multiplied twice, if not more, from the original number. He wonders how many more are living under the couch.
Gaia isn’t Ron’s biological daughter, but he loves her just the same. He’s known her since before she was born. Her father, Rolf, was always traveling for work during Luna’s pregnancy, so she lived at the Burrow, having lost her home during the War.
They grew surprisingly close then. When Ron came home from Auror training for a home-cooked meal, she was right by his mother, learning the best spells for pot roast and how to knit a classic Weasley sweater. They’d stay up late, talking about life and growing up. He started to find comfort in how she saw the world differently. When she spoke, it was because whatever she had to say was needed at that moment.
When Gaia was born, Ron was in the waiting room, just as nervous as if it were his child. Rolf was there, and a second male presence wasn’t necessary. Plus, he was still dating Hermione and wasn’t thinking about Luna in a romantic way. Not yet, at least.
He just felt something pull in his gut that he should be the one in there.
Rolf is a good bloke, though. He treated Luna right, in or out of town. He still did and is also an excellent father, as best he can be. He was just traveling so often, trying to find magical creatures near extinction, that it resulted in Luna and Gaia at The Burrow most days. Ron just happened always to find an excuse to visit. Luna confided her loneliness in him. She whispered one night she wanted a best friend more than anything.
When Luna told him that she and Rolf decided they were better off as co-parents, Ron ignored how his heart gave a little flip.
He and Hermione broke up a few months later. They kept fighting about the future and made the mutual decision to end things.
She needed someone to compliment her type-A lifestyle, who liked to plan and organize, and he needed someone who, well, he wasn’t quite sure what he needed. But he knew what he wanted. To live and be happy, to not constantly be pushing and struggling to be more, to be loved for who he is, and that be enough.
Harry was probably the one most heartbroken about the end of the relationship. Hermione married Draco Malfoy just over a year later. Ron thought it was a perfect match; it was impossible to get a more ambitious man than that.
Ron pulls his backpack off the floor and onto the couch with them. He’s still working with only one hand as his other holds Gaia to his side. Eventually, he pulls a small figurine out of the front pocket.
“What’s that?” Gaia asks, poking the woman holding a torch. She didn’t move; she was from the Muggle shop at the bottom of his hotel.
“The Statue of Liberty,” he explains.
“She looks sad,” Gaia decides, ever the Lovegood, before taking hold of the figurine. “I’m going to go find her a cute pantsuit.”
Gaia pops off his lap and runs to her room without a second thought.
“Oi, you should be going to bed!” Ron calls after her.
Gaia laughs like he just told the funniest joke. “No, thank you!”
Ron groans in response.
Tomorrow will be awful with an overly tired and cranky five-year-old following him around the shop, but Ron doesn’t chase after her. After her inevitable tantrum and even more inevitable nap, he’ll sit her down to explain what happens when she stays up too late. Luna calls these ‘teachable moments,’ and he likes them more than punishments.
Ron finishes his beer and takes Luna’s small present from his backpack. He tucks it in his jeans pocket and tries to ignore its weight, figuratively, not literally. He sets off into the cottage looking for the other blonde woman in his life whom he never realized how much he wanted until he had her atop of him.
It wasn’t a drunken night or a silly mistake either. Ron could still remember it like it was yesterday. She’d taken a blanket out into the orchard behind The Burrow and laid it out to look up at the stars. It was so warm out that she’d shed her dress and laid in only her yellow cotton knickers.
He hadn’t known she was without clothing when he followed her outside. He hadn’t even really thought of her sexually until that point. She was beautiful, gorgeous even, especially with her loud laugh, but that switch hadn’t been flipped yet.
He just knew he loved listening to her talk and appreciated how she responded to his thoughts. He knew their hands fit together just right, and he felt honored every time she fell asleep with her head in his lap as they listened to the wireless. He loved her hugs that some would think were too long and awkward. He always tried to hug her longer.
Seeing her pale skin reflect starlight made his heart stutter. Her breasts and nipples were covered by her curls, but that only caused her to be even more tempting. Her curves were shapely, and her stretchmarks glittered from the stars above. He knew he wanted her then. Wanted her in every way.
A younger Ron, awkward and clumsy with girls, would have made a stupid joke and awkwardly tried to sit with her. Thankfully he was older then, maybe even a touch wiser. But only a touch. He still made a stupid joke, but she liked it.
He pulled his shirt over his head from behind him and then undid the belt on his jeans. He stripped down to only light blue striped boxers and laid down next to her as if it were the most normal thing to do in the world. Eventually, it would become normal for them.
“There’s Sirius,” she said, pointing up at the star. “Regulus hasn’t come out yet. Draco’s up there too, I think, but he’s being moody.”
“Typical,” Ron snorted. “And there you are,” Ron added, corny as ever, but he was looking at her, not the sliver of the moon in the sky.
Her big blue eyes glanced over at him, and then she gave the most dramatic eye roll he’d ever seen. “You’re a nonsense.”
Ron shrugged with a laugh and faced the sky again. He’d been thinking about quitting the Aurors a lot recently. Growing up, he’d always thought it would be an incredible job, but now it reminded him of darkness and the war.
And then those blue eyes were looking down on him. Luna had rolled over, laying her body half atop him, unaware she was lighting his skin on fire. “I think we should fuck.”
Ron choked on his spit and nearly died right there. “Ex-excuse me?”
“Fuck, shag, bang, make love,” she listed off all but have sex, and he suspected that she did it on purpose just to rattle him more.
“Any reason why?” he asked, moving his arms to wrap around her and pull her closer. He wanted to make it clear his question did not mean he was objecting.
“We glow gold when we’re together,” she answered simply as if that explained everything.
And somehow, it did.
Ron heads down the hallway, checking the rooms as he passes the open doors. Gaia is busy playing, and her feet stick out from underneath her bed, kicking in the air with more energy than a Quidditch Keeper. Fred’s room is dark but empty, and the door to the extra room they’ve turned into an office slash library slash art room slash toy room slash storage room is wedged shut.
That just leaves his and Luna’s room, but it's empty too. He’d almost be concerned if the light to the bathroom wasn’t on and the smell of lavender wasn’t thick in the air.
Ron leans against the bathroom doorway, watching Luna and their son in the bath. She sits on one side, legs crossed, her hair in a wild pile atop her head. She wears hanging vegetable earrings. Snap peas, Ron thinks.
Fred can sit up on his own now, but the amount of water makes him a touch buoyant, so Luna has to reach out to keep him upright.
It’s moments like these that he can’t believe how beautiful she is. Her body with every curve. The way she’s the world’s best mother, so completely absorbed in the ginger baby in front of her that’s sucking on his fingers, she doesn’t even notice that Ron is watching.
When Ron falls into depression about the War, he thinks of these moments. He tells himself all that was worth it because he gets to have this, and Fred and Gaia will always have this. They won’t have to know pain like he and Luna did, and it’s a blessing as a father to know.
“Whatcha doin’?” Ron finally asks, breaking the magic between mother and son.
Luna looks up at him and smiles widely.
“It's a good night for whimsy and love,” she tells him, pouring water softly over Fred’s ginger hair to get the suds out. It’s past his shoulders now, and when it’s dry, it curls like Luna’s. They’ve never cut it, and Luna has expressly noted that they only will when Fred asks. Ron’s mum had been in a huff about it, but Ron doesn’t mind. It reminds him of how cool Bill looks all the time.
“I missed you too,” Ron says, and a mischievous smile appears on Luna’s lips. It took being out of school for him to understand what she means when she speaks, but it feels so natural now that he barely even remembers a time when he couldn’t.
“How much?” she challenges. Her eyes drift from Ron’s face to his arms, crossed in front of his chest. She sucks in her bottom lip, and he’s now the one smiling mischievously. He flexes only slightly, allowing a vein on his arm to harden and reveal itself under freckled skin. A blush creeps over her body.
“Not with Fred in the tub,” he teases her, and she gives him a splash. Fred giggles and starts splashing like a madman, spraying even a stray Puffskein that followed Ron. They are going to have an infestation before they know it.
Ron finds a towel and scoops his son out of the bath. He winks, leaving Luna to find her towel. Or maybe not one at all. You can never be too sure with her.
Fred is probably the happiest baby that’s ever lived. He’s mischievous, as one would imagine, crawling months before the average age and sticking just about anything he can in his mouth. He only grows cranky when he’s hungry, and Ron thinks that’s fair.
They’d taken him to St. Mungo’s twice for something stuck up his nose that even magic couldn’t retrieve.
Fred wasn’t a planned baby by them, but Luna says he was scheduled by the Fates. They’d been careful, using potions, but one day she took his hand, placed it over her flat stomach, and simply said, “Fred’s here.”
Nine months later, Ron was in the room with his whole family and Gaia in the waiting room. Everyone had been waiting for the screams of a newborn; what they heard was the bells of a new laugh.
George started sobbing, more than he had for his child’s birth. He said the world finally felt right again for the first time since his twin died.
The baby definitely takes after his mother when it comes to wearing clothes or not wearing them at all. It’s a fight to get Fred’s diaper on, so Ron leaves it at that. Ron’s sure that will be a problem when he’s older, but for tonight the air is as comforting as a blanket.
“You gonna give me some time with mum tonight?” he asks, rubbing Fred’s freckled back softly.
He rocks the baby around the room that’s decorated with a mix of Quidditch paraphernalia and old signs from the joke shop. There’s a picture of the whole family Weasley above the bed, and the original Fred always keeps a protective watch.
Baby Fred gurgles, agreeing that he will sleep through the night. Or what’s left of it, at least.
When he’s finally asleep, Ron sets him down in the crib and adjusts the little lion plush he keeps in the corner. It used to be his and before that, it was Fred’s. Ron used to hate hand-me-downs, and now he understands the importance and magic behind them that can’t be found in anything new.
Ron flicks the mobile to turn on with his wand and sets the wireless to a soft lullaby before leaving the room. As much as he wants to find Luna, to give her a proper greeting hello, he stops in Gaia’s room to see what he expected.
The little legs have stopped moving and just stick out at an odd angle. It’s easy to imagine she’s been flattened by the bed, so he decides tomorrow he’ll look up a child-safety spell to ensure that never happens.
He uses his wand again, levitating her only an inch off the ground so he can tug her out from under the bed without waking her. She clutches the Statue of Liberty, now dressed in a power suit with bright red lipstick, in one hand. Ron picks her up despite her whines and tucks her into the bed. She kicks at him when he tries to take off her astronaut boots, so he lets that be too.
“Love you,” she mumbles in her sleep before pulling the blanket up over her head.
“Love you too, G,” he tells her back with ease. She always sleeps like that, and when she was younger, Ron was always worried she’d suffocate herself. Sometimes he still does, but he’s spelled the blanket with safety precautions to prevent that sort of thing.
By the time he makes it back to his bedroom, the room is dark and empty. The bathroom light is off even if the smell of lavender lingers.
“Bloody hell,” he groans and looks down the hall for Luna. It’s a small cottage; the fact he keeps losing family members in it is rather comical. He checks the living room. The Puffskeins are most definitely multiplying.
He checks the kitchen, but she’s not eating underneath the table. Months ago, or maybe years now, Luna told him that the chairs hated being inside, so she put them out in the garden. She never found chairs to replace them since they would get jealous, so one night, when Luna was working late, he and Gaia moved the place settings underneath the table and shared Macaroni and Cheese straight out of the pot.
Like everything between their odd family, it just fit them and stuck for every meal after.
The door to the garden is cracked open— a clue.
The garden is just as messy as the rest of the house. It’s overgrown with wildflowers, no matter the season. There’s a little gnome village east of the yard that Luna won’t let him kick out. The Dirigible Plum tree against the house is the same one taken from her old home.
There’s no light, except for what spills from the kitchen window and open door, but that makes it better for looking at the stars.
He finds Luna quickly. She’s lying on a blanket, completely nude. He almost misses the yellow cotton knickers, but only almost.
He strips as he walks closer. The years have been kind to the mid-twenty-something. Even though he quit Auror training years ago, he’s retained the muscle by running in the mornings to clear his mind. Ginny teases that Ron’s got a bit of a Dad-bod, but Harry says he’s DILF, whatever that means.
Quitting the Aurors hadn’t been easy for Ron to accept. It felt like giving up.
For weeks, maybe even months, he sobbed into Luna’s shoulder about how much it hurt to pull himself out of bed and head into work every day. He told her he just wanted to die some days instead of being this forced hero. He admitted to her his deepest secret: that gaining vengeance for his friends, for Fred, didn’t feel like a resolution. It felt like slicing grief into his soul all over again.
She was the one that told him quitting didn’t mean giving up. She ran her fingers through his hair and told him it was okay to want to just live for himself.
That was the moment he knew she was right. He loved her with every bit of his soul.
Luna became pregnant with Fred only a few months later. Everyone said it was a sign for Ron to work at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes with George. The transition was tough, but it felt so easy and perfect that he never complained. He was finally happy.
Luna works with her father at The Quibbler. Five years ago, his mum watched Gaia while Luna went to work, but one day his mum had a Healer’s appointment, and Ron took Gaia to work with him. It wasn’t easy keeping an eye on an eighteen-month-old toddler while running a business, but it also felt so natural and right. Gaia started coming to work with him once a week. Then twice. And now, every day since his mum takes Fred and George brings his daughter, Madeline, to work.
Gaia and Mads might be twins in how they read each other's minds and destroy the store with their mischief. This is why they fit right in, and Ron and George wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ron sheds his jeans when he reaches Luna on the blanket. She’s let her hair down. It covers her breasts, but the sight still makes his mouth water. He can't keep his eyes away from the area between her legs, the blonde hair trimmed into the shape of a daisy. Or at least he thinks that’s what it’s supposed to be.
“Is this the whimsy or the love part?” he jokes as he removed his boxers and lays down, just as nude as her.
Luna smiles secretively. “Both.”
She’s atop him before he can blink, straddling his hips and still smiling. She leans down so their noses touch, and he can see the freckles she gets when she’s been in the sun too long.
“I’ve decided you’re not allowed to leave anymore,” she tells him, her hands moving to his and pinning them above his head. She shifts her hips, rubbing her wet center against him. He’s half-hard at just the contact.
“For work or ever?” he asks for clarification because he knows this is important. He didn’t go to America for work, but she doesn’t know that yet. It’s the only lie he’s ever told her, but he knows the surprise is worth it.
“Both,” she answers again as she moves her body, puzzling them together just right so she can slide down onto his length. He groans loudly, his hips bucking.
“In my jeans pocket,” he tells her, his voice cracking. She doesn’t move from atop him; she’s set on keeping him warm, but her movement makes her take him deeper, and he’s hard as a rock now. It’s one of her favorite things, just sitting on his cock like it's the most natural thing in the world. She told him once that it makes her feel whole.
She lets go of his wrists to get the discarded clothing. Her shifting moments make him grunt and roll his hips. It’s taken years to learn the control to make this last. Not that it matters. Even when an orgasm rocks him, she stays, his come leaking from her until he’s hard again. And he always gets hard again.
In the front pocket of his jeans is the gift he hid away earlier, the ring he found in New York.
“Shut up,” she says as she holds it up at the moon to see it better in the light. It’s a simple gold ring with the world's only unicorn diamond. It hasn't been confirmed what the gem is or what it’s made of. The only thing anyone knows is it’s made of whatever pure magic becomes when it turns into a solid.
Only one witch ever achieved it, and she died doing it: Pandora Lovegood.
“Stop,” she says, her voice cracking. “It’s supposed to be lost. The Death Eaters–”
Her voice cracks again, and she tries so hard not to cry. She pushes her hand to her eyes, trying to shove the tears back in. She thinks crying is natural. She says that the body needs to cry, but he knows she always hates crying about this. They’re the same this way, wanting to pretend the past doesn't hurt and that they finished grieving years ago.
He knows she wants to be everyone’s rock, but he’s hers.
Ron takes the ring and guides it onto Luna’s left hand. “Supposed to be. Took a year, but Rolf helped me track it down.”
The Death Eaters took it when they ransacked Lovegood Home after kidnapping her. Between that and her home being completely destroyed during the War, she has nothing left of her mother except memories. It’s a fact Ron hates more than anything, and he’s worked for over a year to fix.
As mentioned, Rolf is a good bloke. When Ron came to him, letting him know that he wanted to marry Luna, he said, “about bloody time.” When he said he needed help tracking Pandora’s ring, the man agreed before he could even finish asking. They came to a few dead ends and even asked Harry for help from the DMLE once. After Fred was born, Ron debated asking for her hand with a different ring, but it didn’t feel what the world wanted.
Rolf knows about the black market from magical creature dealings, but that also means he has friends in low places who tracked the ring to New York. They did not include Harry during this part.
Rolf set Ron up with the right people, and with some of his past Auror skills, he located it in a faux-Muggle pawnshop designed to keep law enforcement in the dark. It took longer than he wanted and cost more money than he’d admit, but seeing the smile bloom across her face is worth it. Knowing that she gets a part of her mother back is worth it.
It’s not like they need much money anyway; they already have everything.
Finally, she lets the tears run down her cheek and splatter onto his chest. He wipes them away but doesn’t say anything. He lets her take her time and find her words.
“I don’t want to be a Weasley,” she says, nervous frown lines etching her face.
Ron would be hurt if he wasn’t expecting that. If he didn’t understand what she meant. But he does, and he smiles. “What about my wife?”
“Yes, more than anything,” she whispers as a smile blooms on her lips and leans down to kiss him.
She grinds against him to let him know she wants more. Thank Merlin. After two weeks of not having her, he’s not sure how much longer he would last inside of her.
He kisses her hard. It’s better than coming home because she is home. It’s been what he’s wanted all night, and it’s better than he remembers. He gathers her naked body up in his arms. Their hips move together in perfect rhythm.
She whines his name, and her legs start to shake. He pulls her close and rolls them over, pushing one of her knees to her chest so he can thrust in deeper and more demanding. Sometimes they’re rough with each other. Sometimes she wants to dominate even. He likes that too.
But tonight is exactly what she said it was: whimsy and love. It’s them, nude and raw in the warm summer night. It’s understanding every part of each other and seeing flaws as beautiful compliments.
He leans down, taking her nipple in his mouth and biting it hard. It makes her whole body convulse. It’s a little one, but by how wet she is, how easy it is to slide in and out of her, he knows she was so close to the edge before they even started moving.
Her legs now move around his waist, gripping him tight, pulling him deeper. Sweat dimples on his skin and causes their bodies to slide over each other, feeling every groove and curve. She’s pleading with him for more, and who’s he to deny her request?
His hand snakes down between her legs, and he rubs her clit as he continues to thrust hard. She’s cresting now, gripping him tight before she explodes, yelling his name into the night air.
This is why they couldn’t move right next door to his parents. The last thing he needed was his mum and dad apparating in, thinking Luna was screaming his name in horror instead of another reason.
Her fingernails dig into his back, scraping hard and leaving red lines all over. It’s connect-the-dots with his freckles. Well, almost.
He leaves red bite marks all over her chest before he kisses her again for his last few thrusts. Their tongues find each other, dancing and tasting. When he explodes, he thrusts in so hard a tear leaks from her eyes, but she’s smiling like she’s never found better pleasure. She holds him tight and doesn’t let him leave her. She takes in every drop and refuses to move.
He breathes hard into her neck. His shaggy hair is matted with sweat. Eventually, he pulls back to look at her.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says in awe. Luna rolls her hips, making him croak. “You’re going to make me hard again,” he warns her.
She gives a sated yet teasing smile. “Promise?”
The truth is that Gaia and Fred’s mischievous side comes from their mother. And he loves it.
“Give me a second,” he laughs and kisses her. She nods and lets him rest his forehead against hers as he catches his breath.
“Oh bugger! I was supposed to be the one surprising you,” she finally gasps as if she’s just remembered something.
“How’s that?” He chuckles. He’s still breathing heavily and more interested in round two, but he does his best to pay attention.
“Another oops,” she reveals, taking his hand and pressing it against her lower stomach. His cock twitches and she gives a soft gasp at the sensation.
Merlin, they had been more than safe this time. Potions and spells. Maybe staying in her after he comes isn’t a good thing after all.
Though that didn’t matter tonight. Or for the next nine months, apparently.
He’s not upset, though. Barely even shocked or scared at the idea. They’ve been doing fine without a plan, so another child to love is just another addition to their happiness. “Boy or girl?”
She shrugs. “Both.”
“Twins?” Ron’s eyebrows now lift in fear. Knowing the children they have now, he can’t imagine surviving whatever pops out next if it’s doubled.
She shakes her head. “Just one, but they aren’t sure yet.”
And Ron understands. She wasn’t wrong about the first two; why would she be wrong about this? It doesn’t matter anyways. He’ll still love them with all his heart.
He asks next what really matters. “OK, Gryffindor, at least?”
She tilts her head to the side, thinking and perhaps consulting the stars. “No, too smart for their own good,” she decides, “Slytherin probably.”
Ron gasps in mock horror. It makes her body tense around him, and he has to gulp down a moan.
“Nope. Never. No child of mine,” he says, though he’s mostly joking. Mostly.
“Shush, you love them,” Luna hushes him with a kiss on his lips.
Ron agrees, “I love all of you.”
He slowly starts moving his hips, teasing this time, making her whine out into the night sky.
“I love you too, Ronald Weasley, but do not tease.”
He chuckles.
Okay, maybe he’s a bit of the mischief too.