That's What Brothers Do

“Thanks,” she murmured, climbing in the Ministry car as Ron took her trunk. She tapped her shoes on the threshold of the door to purge them of their wetness. Her hair was dripping wet, as were her clothes. She found she really didn’t mind.

Ron heaved her trunk in the back of the car carelessly before taking a seat next to his younger sister. She involuntarily shivered. Her hands were wet, her knuckles slight purple. Ron’s teeth were chattering, his face pale. Other than his chattering, they sat in silence, waiting for their parents.

Molly and Arthur were off somewhere else – no doubt fighting. What about, Ron could make an educated guess, but he didn’t know for sure. Unfortunately he could hear their muffled voices yelling. He couldn’t make out their words, no matter how much he strained his ears. He wanted to hear what they had to say – but at the same time didn’t. What would he give for a pair of Extendable Ears?

When Mr. and Mrs. Weasley finally came back, both were fuming. Arthur looked straight ahead , not looking at his wife, or anyone else for that matter. Molly kept on offering exasperated and annoying sighs that agitated Ron after just ten minutes. Why couldn’t they just resolve their problems without fighting? Surely they could sort things out without bickering at each other. He did not know of any couple that bickered so much.

He glanced at Ginny to see how she was feeling about their parents. The usual Ginny would roll her eyes, or raise her eyebrows. But this Ginny.. her expression was blank, as were her chocolate eyes. She was pale and faraway. Ron felt a swooping sensation of dread in his stomach as he stared at her, trying to make eye contact. She paid no heed to her older brother. In fact, she paid no attention to him for the entire trip back to the Burrow. Ron eventually turned to stare out his window miserably.

It was the most peculiar homecoming he had ever experienced.

There were no siblings home, so the house was silent as they entered through the rickety wood front door. Ron half expected to hear Fred and George start to tease him, or Bill to clap him on the shoulder. What would he give just to hear Percy brag about his bloody job? Or Charlie asking about how O.W.Ls went? Ron forlornly dragged his trunk up the stairs with Ginny just behind him.

“I want you two to put away your things right away,” Molly said sternly, straightening out her blouse. “Then you come right down to dinner.”

“Gee, think she’d be more happy to see us?” Ron tried to joke once they were at Ginny’s landing. His voice wasn’t dripping with its usual humorous sarcasm or his good nature. Because of this, and since she wasn’t in the mood, Ginny didn’t even offer a snort. She opened her door slowly, closing her eyes. She slid in slowly, clicking it shut behind her at a snail’s pace.

Ron stared at her door, debating with himself. Did he dare?

No. She obviously doesn’t want to talk to me… just look at her.

Ron shook off his worry by thinking of his task ahead. Never had he actually put away his clothes in an orderly fashion. And this wasn’t a different case. He shoved his clothes haphazardly in his small closet, avoiding the avalanche of the items already in there. Five minutes later he plopped onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling.

Even the ghoul in the attic was quiet tonight.

He knew why he was feeling so lousy. And the answer was Ginny. Crickey, he hated seeing her like this! Ever since the bloody war, she was so… distant. He didn’t understand it. She hadn’t been hurt physically all that badly – nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix in a trice – so was there something she hadn’t told him? That must be it. There was no other reason for her to be so aloof. Ron got up and ambled to her room.

“Ginny?” he said softly, opening the room up. It took him a moment to spot her in the dark room. She was sitting on her bed, her back to him. Her trunk hadn’t been opened yet. He leaned against the doorway, waiting for her to answer. Her ears turned red for some reason. Weasley ears turned red for only two emotions – embarrassment or anger. He hoped it was the first. When she spoke, he gave a start. Her voice was harsh and sharp, like Hermione’s became once a month.

“Go.”

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked feebly.

“Go.”

“Aren’t you coming down for dinner?”

“Go.”

“Want me to sneak you something?”

“Go.”

Ron hesitated.

“LEAVE!”

He dashed out just in time; a shoe whistled past his ear. He shut the door, tripping over the shoe and nearly falling down the stairs.

“Ron, is that you?” Molly called up.

“Yeah, I’m coming down,” he said in disbelief. Did she just throw a shoe at him?

“Okay,” his mother said uncertainly. He heard her sigh again. With a backwards glance, he came down the stairs quickly, his mind not leaving Ginny.

It was one of the most peculiar scenes he had ever seen. In their cramped kitchen, with their huge table… there were three people. Three. Ron sat down across from his parents awkwardly. This wasn’t right. The table should be creaking with food and elbows, booming with laughter, conversation, and yelling.

It was silent. How could silence be so loud? There were a couple of dishes with a few plates and forks, but nothing else. His parents sat next to each other, but not really together.

“Well, you’ve grown, haven’t you?” Arthur said softly, examining Ron proudly from behind his glasses. Ron’s ears went red. You can guess what Weasley emotion that represented.

“Yeah, I grew some centimeters.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Ron’s cheeks matched his ears.

“What?” he said, his voice cracking. He felt like melting when his mum and dad exchanged knowing glances. He scooped food on his plate, not looking at them.

“Tomorrow you have some chores to do,” Molly said, breaking the few minutes’ silence that followed Ron’s embarrassment. “You need to tell Ginny—oh, by the way --- where is your sister?”

“Sleeping,” Ron said hastily. “She.. wasn’t hungry. Real tired. Yeah. Party last night. Thought she’d get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Molly said, raising an eyebrow. “I hope there wasn’t alcohol at this party. She seemed out of it on the way back.”

“Of course not!” Ron said. “No, she didn’t get drunk.”

“Okay…” Mrs. Weasley said uncertainly “Well, anyways… you two need to degnome the gardens again, they’re infested… weed the garden while you’re there, oh and tend to all the plants, replant some that died…”

“Whoa… why all the work?” Ron whined. “Mum, we just got back!”

“You two are the only ones left, so you just have a little more work!” Molly said.

“So you think that putting us to work will keep our minds off the war?” Ron blurted.

“Don’t raise your voice to your mother!” Arthur warned.

“Well, it won’t work,” Ron said, his voice still loud. “Did you just see Ginny? Working her out of her mind won’t help. It’ll make it worse!”

“It’s better than sitting around, just to think about all that’s going on!” Molly said, tears filling her eyes.

“Yeah, well working isn’t going to kill V-v-voldemort, is it? It’s not going to save lives, is it?” Ron said, a quiver in his voice. “Working our tails off won’t keep him off our mind. It’s going to take more than a few chores. I don’t think there’s anything you can do. So back off.”

He didn’t wait for their reaction. He knew they would explode at him. So he walked upstairs quickly and away from them.

“No,” Molly said, grabbing Arthur’s shoulder. He had started up the stairs after Ron. “No, Arthur.”

Her husband looked at her tiredly and apologetically.

“He’s just upset,” she whispered.

“That’s no excuse—“

“It’s alright,” she said, waving her hand as if to brush aside his apology from the air. “We’ll just give them a few days…”

Arthur nodded, looking out the window.

“Did you see his arms?” Molly asked, worry and pity filling her voice.

“Yes,” Arthur said. “But I’m glad that’s the worst that happened to him.”

*****

“What?”

“Ron,” Ginny repeated, shaking him more.

“What the – Ginny?”

“Ron!” Ginny sobbed, hugging him tightly.

At first he thought this was a dream, but the wetness on his bare chest was real. He tried to adjust his eyes to the dark. It was Ginny, in fact. Even in the dark, her hair was the brilliant red.

“Shhhh,” he said, patting her back.

“Ron…”

Ron let her sit on the bed next to him, still patting her back. He waited for her sobs to subside, which took some time. Finally, she spoke.

“I thought I lost you.”

“I’m right here, Gin. Just please, stop crying.”

“You were dead, Ron!”

“I’m alive, you just had a bad dream,” he comforted.

“A bad dream?”

“Yes, Ginny. Just a dream, it wasn’t real. See? I’m alive.”

“I’m sorry… I’m being stupid…”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t ever say you’re stupid.”

“Ron… I’m just so worried… all this going on… you could die, Ron. Promise me you won’t die… please…”

“I can’t promise you that,” he said blankly. “You know that.”

“Please, Ron.”

“I can’t promise you I won’t die, because –“

“Please, Ron, I’m begging you… I can’t lose you…” she said franticly, clinging to his shoulders.

“No, listen,” he said sadly. “Listen.”

Ginny nodded, sitting up and letting go of his shoulders to look him in the face.

“I’ve been thinking – and this war is just like a chess game.”

“What? You’re relating this to chess? That’s not funny, how dare you joke about a thing like –“

“I’m a knight.”

“What?”

“Ginny, I’m a knight on the chess board.”

“Ron, you’re not making any sense, what are you---“

“I can be useful in the game, Ginny. I protect the king. Do you know who the king is? On our side?”

“Ron, what’s the point of this, you’re being----”

“Who’s the king, Ginny?”

“Harry.”

“Yeah. So Harry’s the king. And you and Hermione… to me, you’re both the queen. Extremely valuable… but if you’re lost, the game isn’t over, just damaged pretty bad. But it’s not as bad to lose the knight.”

“Take that back.” Ginny’s heart started to beat harder in her chest, bouncing in her throat as she fought more tears. She knew what he was getting at.

“No, Ginny. I can be useful. I can only do so much. I’m there to back Harry up. And if I’m taken by the opponents… the game goes on.”

“No,” Ginny sobbed, clinging to him tightly. “No, no, no!”

“Hey,” he said quietly, not looking at her. “I’m willing to go a square in front of the queen any day.”

“No, Ron. You won’t do something stupid to be the hero. Why would you save me? Why would you risk your life for me? I’m weak, I’m useless compared to you. Why would you save me?”

He thought for a moment, his eyes not leaving her watery ones.

“Because that’s what older brothers do.”