Chapter Text
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March 1st, 1987
Featuring: Ronald Weasley, George Weasley
The Burrow, located on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole had once been a little Tudor building owned by a wealthy merchant. When Arthur and Molly Weasley bought the house all that was left was a large stone pigpen and an unkept rose garden. Definitely not ideal.
When Arthur first spotted the unruly tangle of thorns and blooming velvety petals it reminded him of the garden his own mother tamed at his childhood home. The one he and his brothers use to chase each other through. Right then and there he declared the rose garden was a sign and the property was meant for their growing family and that they'd purchase it that very second. Whether the rose garden was there or not the abandoned stone pigpen was the only thing the family could afford at the time.
Arthur was only trying to be optimistic about it.
Despite the rather unpromising foundation, the Weasley had worked hard to turn it into a real home. Over the years The Burrow grew several stories as extra rooms had been added here and there as they needed to accommodate more children. Four or five chimneys stuck out of the red roof and only two of them were functional.
By the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Ronald Weasley, a young boy with a full head of curls like a wildfire of copper and rust puts his chess piece down. His opponents often underestimate him, distracted by the freckles scattered across his nose or his gaze that felt like a snare, but now it is he who is unfocused. “Who else could possibly be arriving this late?” Ron questioned, clearly peeved by the interruption.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
“Well they are quite persistent,” Cedric mused. Sounding rather smug even as he struggled to adjust the string of his glossy paper party hat he wore on top of his head. The dark haired wizard had always been handsome, but even more noticeably so when he smiled. He added, “Won’t you open the door for them?”
Ron would never dare admit it, but he’d sort of always had this girl crush (boy crush?) on Cedric Diggory. He was only three years older than Ron and yet he seemed so… dignified? Yes, that's the word his older brother, Percy would use. Cedric was both incredibly thoughtful and smart, he’d never once made fun of Ron for his shortcomings like his older brothers did. Instead he always offered kind words of reassurance. Ron usually ignored these kind words in favor of self loathing, but they were sweet to his ears nonetheless.
Even in more unfavorable situations Cedric never did let his emotions get the better of him. He was practically everything Ron wished he could be and he couldn’t help but admire Cedric for it. Usually Ron would do whatever Cedric asked of him and more, but he was being stubborn. Ron huffed, “I will not! What if it's a stranger?”
It was a bit of an irrational thought process considering the Weasley’s lived in the middle of nowhere and it wasn’t very likely a stray hiker wandered up to their front door.
“Just say you're a puss!” his younger sister declared, laughing.
Ron roared, “I am not!”
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Luna insisted, “It's okay Ronald I don’t think you're a puss!”
The younger girl was sitting directly across the table from him and she too had abandoned her chess piece. His neighbor, Luna Lovegood was… odd, but in an endearing sort of way. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had hidden her father’s wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer caps.
None of that mattered to Ron as long as the girl could play a good game of chess. Which truthfully she couldn’t even do that because she was a terrible player, but even knowing she’d lose she’d play anyway because no one else was willing to.
“Thank you, Luna…” he mumbled, miserably.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Bloody hell why were they so persistent?
Fred bellowed, “I got it!” The ginger boy’s lanky limbs one step ahead of him as he partially threw himself down the wooden staircase. His twin brother, George, was not far behind him with a face splitting grin plastered across his face.
Ron’s stomach turned in uneasiness. The twins mischievous smiles surely meant the two were plotting a new cruel prank.
The young boy didn't even feel safe on his birthday.
Ron would never admit it to his brothers but the twins' pranks bothered him much more than he’d let on. Despite it being embarrassing he didn't even really mind when they’d turned his skin a vibrant shade of blue for a week or when they had given him a lollipop that burned a hole through his tongue. What truly had stuck with him was the prank they’d played on him last year.
He’d had this favorite toy. A teddy bear the color of mahogany bark and it’d been the first toy that was truly his. Not just a hand me down from his older brothers. The twins had stolen Charlie’s wand and used it to transform his stuffed bear into a thousand spiders. Multiple crawled up and down his arms as others scattered to all corners of his bedroom. Ron’s shrieks of terror caught their mother’s ear and even after she'd put an end to the prank Ron couldn’t get the feeling of their tiny legs crawling all over him.
He’d scrubbed his skin so hard it’d turned pink.
He’d been deathly afraid of spiders ever since and he’d probably be for the rest of his life.
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Fred clasped the cold metal of the doorknob and gently opened it a slither. Before the young boy could peek through the slit, the wind pressed against the other side on the wooden door swung it open with unexpected force.
The boy was greeted by quite literally nothing at all. No one stood on the doorstep. George leaned out, his ginger hair stirring in the mild March breeze as he glanced both ways. Whoever had knocked on the front door was long gone.
George only finally noticed it when he looked down.
Sitting on the top of the front steps was a bouquet of red roses arranged in an ornate glass vase. Between two blossoms, a black greeting card waited like a quiet secret.
Fred turned to his twin, he chuckled, “Well Georgie, it looks like our baby brother has a secret admirer.”
“So he does,” George remarked. He lowered himself to the ground, lifting the glass vase into his hand. His slender finger trailed the ornate details etched into the glass of the vase. A faint, inexplicable unease crawled through him.
Ginny barked, “Well who is it?”
Fred snickered at his sister’s impatience regarding a gift that wasn’t even hers. He’s the first of the two to leave, his socks muffled the sound of his footsteps against the wooden floorboards. He replied, “No one!”
George left the door ajar, the echo of his parents laughter—and the other adults—carrying in from the backyard. George tries to reason with himself that perhaps one of the adults had walked around the perimeter of the house and dropped the vase off at the front door. Even as he tries to brush it off, a thought nags at him: they would have said something.
Something about it felt secretive. Which usually meant something about it was wrong.
Though the Lovegoods were known to be a bit wacky, George could imagine this being something Luna suggested to her parents. He would have expected their choice of flowers to at least offer a multitude of different colors. A black greeting card was certainly an odd choice.
Ginny called, “George!”
George huffed in annoyance, his younger sister had always been the most impatient out of the seven Weasley kids. He replied, “I’m coming!” He followed the footsteps of his twin, leaning against the doorframe of their crowded living room.
Ron’s lips upturned in a shy smile, and his cheeks flushed a rosy red as his gaze landed on the glass vase. His embarrassment only grew as Fred made playful comments about Ron's secret admirer and supposed tragic romance. Ron chided, “I do not have one!”
The sight made him grin and George couldn’t help but drop his suspicions. How much harm could a few roses really cause? At the most someone might prick themselves on the rose's studded stem, but that was more their fault than it was the roses.
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Ron suspects the roses are charmed by magic. His mum meticulously tends to her rose bushes in the garden every afternoon and Ron knows they aren’t in bloom, not until another month.
The petals are especially vibrant, a vivid shade of red that reminds Ron of a ruby necklace he’d seen hanging in a shop window in Hogsmeade Village.
Ron repeated, “I do not have a secret admirer!”
Fred knows this no doubt for Ron doesn't speak to anyone other than everyone who is currently at this party. Their mum does her best to keep them shielded from outside influences and because of that Ron’s number of potential friends is limited. He's never really had the chance to speak to anyone else. Nonetheless as an older brother, Fred absolutely must uphold the sacred tradition of mercilessly teasing his younger brother.
Luna chimes in, “You ought not be so humble Ronald, you're quite the catch I’m sure you're admired by many!”
Ron’s face twists in complete horror at Luna’s words. It’s less her choice of words and more so how the twins and Ginny will twist her words to make a complete fool out of Ron. He probably won’t hear the end of it until the roses begin to wilt.
George asked, “What's the card say?”
“Umm, give me a moment I’ve yet to look,” he admitted. Ron set the glass vase on the wooden table with a soft clink, the unfinished chess game still waiting beside it. He plucked the black greeting card from where it rested between two flowers. “Nothing.” He flipped from the front of the card to the back of the card multiple times as if the words might suddenly appear.
Cedric questioned, “Not even who it’s from?”
“Nope,” Ron replied.
The back door eased open with a creak. Molly Weasley came in carrying a pile of dirty dishes, her face warm with color and laughter spilling out of her lips. She peers into the crowded living room to check up on her children and her gaze immediately lands on the vase full of roses. She questioned, "These flowers are lovely! Ronnie, who got you these?”
Molly abandons the mismatched plates in the sink. She moved deeper into the living room and lifted the vase with care. Her smile pinched at the edges when her eyes caught the black greeting card.
“Luna did,” Ron lied.
His mother's smile immediately brightened. She beams, "I'm not surprised she's such a sweetheart.” Molly returns the vase to the wooden coffee table in favor of affectionately stroking Luna's dirty blonde hair as a form of praise. Luna’s mother, Pandora, sometimes does the same to Ginny—and even to Ron.
Luna flashes their mother a small smile in response.
Everyone else turns their gaze back to Ron, confusion and even a pinch of disbelief at Ron’s obvious lie. No one speaks up though, and the ginger boy is incredibly grateful for that.
Molly retreated to the kitchen, she explained, “Let me finish washing up those dishes and I’ll leave you all to your fun.”
The third boy of the Weasley family, Percy, makes his first appearance of the night as he reaches the bottom of the staircase. Percy claimed, “No need mum, I have it handled.” He placed his textbook on the kitchen table and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Ron can’t help but notice the ink spears that are now visible on his older brother's hands.
“Thank you Percy! I can always count on you,” she praised, swiftly clapping her hands together once. At her positive reinforcement Percy pushes his glasses up his nose bridge a little higher, and his smile gets a little haughtier.
Fred audibly scoffs at the display.
Ron gathers the glass vase into his hands, determined to tuck it out of sight in his room before Percy—or even his father—starts asking awkward questions about the roses and who they came from. In truth Ron himself has no clue who they are from.
He told himself he shouldn’t pry too hard for the truth. It’s better that way. Some things are better left unknown.
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