Ron

Title: Perks

Occasionally, when the darkness and warm quiet of his bed failed to lull Ron to sleep he would borrow Harry's invisibility cloak and go for a stroll.
It was a great perk that he knew where it was hidden, a bigger perk that Harry never minded and a right good spot of wizardry that he could break through the enchantments on his trunk.
It was weirdly relaxing to tip-toe through the cold hallways, unseen. He knew it was an odd thing to put him into the mood for sleeping, but he loved to wander the corridors and watch the portraits dream.

Title: The Look on Her Face

The thing about living with Hermione was that Ron was forced into learning something new nearly every day.
Sometimes that learning was preempted with an expressive eye-roll, sometimes with a snort of laughter or, rarely, a very gentle sort of patience.
He almost preferred the eye-rolling. When Hermione was patient he felt like a child.
Occasionally though, he got to be the teacher. All the ins and outs of the Wizarding World couldn't be learned through books, and he loved the look she got when he surprised her.
He adored surprising her. There were a few...things...Ron Weasley really enjoyed teaching Hermione Granger.

Title: A Simple Twist

"Show me again, Ron." Hermione asked, leaning closer. Grinning, Ron picked up his wand and deftly twirled it around his fingers in a deceptively simple but intricate-looking pattern.
"Try it again, okay? And remember, it has to pass your ring finger first..." Harry and Hermione obediently placed their wands carefully in their fingers and, with identical looks of concentration, attempted the simple twist Ron had been trying to teach them all evening.
Harry's landed with a clatter on the rock floor behind him, and Hermione's sailed gracefully over Ron's head. He caught it lazily and handed it back, suppressing a laugh. He remembered the countless times they had tried in vain to teach him something.
But it was still funny.

Title: Chores

Ron Weasley was a proud man. He liked to be the best at the things he did, and he really liked being the best at something Hermione wasn't.
Having muscles really was nice sometimes.
So here he was, feeling thoroughly manly, helping Hermione clean out her parent's attic.
He had thought being a Muggle doctor might have been interesting, but after opening the sixth box of dusty dentistry tomes, he was willing to forgo his fascination with the silver instruments seen in her father's office.
But then there was this; it was large, shiny, and looked fabulously out of place and glittery in the dimly lit attic.
After he showed it to Hermione, he would swear he'd never seen her laugh so hard in her life.

Title: Capabilites

Ron did not like Harry's Firebolt. It wasn't because of the exquisite design, or because of the gleaming wood, the 150-in-10 acceleration capabilities or the even the superb braking charms.
No, Ron had his Cleansweep Eleven, and it was enough for him; it was perfect for him. Not because he had worn a perfect fit to his palm in the ash wood handle, not because the cushioning charms were set to exactly his own comfort level or even because he had came to own it through his own accomplishments, and pride was huge.
Ron loved his own broomstick because Hermione, barely conscious and bleeding, had looked at him and said, "I want to ride on that one. With you."
No Firebolt could do that.

Title:Missed

There were a lot of things he missed, like a real mattress, fudge, hot showers, and house elves doing the wash.
One thing he had not expected to not miss was flying. He had never imagined he would willingly trade the exhilaration of being aloft on a broomstick for being barraged by thorns and branches and covered with mud, but he hadn't ever expected to see Hermione's hair, encrusted with dirt and limp for the first time in living memory, or Harry, so thin and pale that his veins rose alarmingly big on the back of his hands.
And if the skies were a danger...if the brambles and sticks and brush kept them safe, he didn't know how he would ever miss it again.