just a king and a rusty throne

ron weasley order of the phoenix

[longbbottom]

with: @roonil-waazlibb​ where: near buckingham palace, london when: april 17, 2am what: DOVE protects RON from something dangerous. why?

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But then, that’s how the story always goes these days, doesn’t it? The things that aren’t supposed to happen, happen — these are bad things, ugly things, heartwrenching things. Dove’s eyes are bleary from smoke, shards of glass crunch under their boots and they squint, trying to find any of the other Order members that had come. Then, a flash of red: it’s easy to miss, really, but it’s that signature Weasley-tint of red. Near-orange. Hardly moving. That’s uncharacteristic. “Shit.” 

Seems like they’re not the only one who’s spotted this Weasley in presumed peril, though, and Dove watches a cloaked figure approach with a curse on their lips and doesn’t hesitate. Attacking from behind is dirty, sure, but she hardly thinks these fuckers deserving of her fairness. So, nifty wandwork moves fast and she’s tying a rope of bursting light to the cloak, then yanks. Serves them right for wearing such shit outfits, they think, as the Death Eater flies, then crashes. For good measure, she blindly sends a stunning spell in the general direction, but doesn’t stop to see if it hits. In stead, she’s onto Ron, crouching down, giving a small slap against a blood-stained cheek. “No time for naps here, Ronaldo, c’mon,” they hiss, looking over their shoulder. “Y’alright?”

[roonil-waazlibb]

-- When one has been fighting a war for as long as Ron has, one would think they’d be used to dodging what can only be described at shitty, underhanded bastard moves. 

That is, namely, curses straight to the face.

Sure, Ron was a big supporter of underhanded moves - he was a practically a genius when it came to the classic kick to the crotch move - but it wasn’t like he was about to applaud the dickheads for getting one over on him, particularly when it really hurt.

His hips and back ache from where he slammed into the ground, which says nothing for the state of his face, and Ron releases a low groan of pain, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep himself conscious.

“M’good, m’good,” he slurs, squinting up at the familiar face, “Think m’wife’ll still think m’beautiful?”

[roonil-waazlibb]

hercism​:

Rose bites back every urge to spit out “no shit” at the mention of how long it’s been since they’d seen each other – it’s the beginning of a fight that no one wins. They’re no stranger to not seeing their parents for long stretches of time, even if the sting of separation doesn’t lessen in adulthood. If anything, knowing the full range of tragedy that can befall their family makes each day spent apart more nerve-wracking. On more selfish days, Ro dreams of taking his parents and little brother far, far away - somewhere peaceful enough that taking a moment to well and truly relax wouldn’t mean certain death. 

It’s a nice dream. 

“You sound as though you aren’t excited for a makeover,” Rose feigns shock, with wide eyes and a hand pressed against their chest for emphasis. “B’yeah, I guess. I’d recommend the food first, nails second. Maybe a haircut later if you’re feeling like looking less…Sasquatchian.” 

Rose sits up, rolls their shoulders to work out the knots, and attempts to keep their tone light. “So…feeling prepared to tackle the…what did we agree we’re calling it, now? ‘Back to School Season’?”

--

Keeping his eyes firmly on his child - at least as best he can - Ron fumbles behind him for the nearest mug, turning away for the briefest of moments to pour himself a coffee, barely bothering to splash milk in before he turns back around. After the day he’d had, he needed it as strong as possible.

After most days he’d had, he needed everything to be strong.

But as he usually was, Ron was overjoyed to see Rose. He always had his ear to the ground, making sure his children were okay, but it was another thing entirely to have them in front of him, healthy and alive and as happy as anyone could be in the garbage world they lived in.

“Nails and food I can do. Haircut...we’ll see,” Ron says with a grin, tossing his overgrown hair out of his face, “Might keep it long.”

Ladening up his plate, Ron leans back against the kitchen bench, spooning the food into his mouth slowly. “As prepared as one can be,” he muses, knowing he had long given up on every trying to hide difficult things from Rose and Hugo. “We’ve been better off...but we’ve also been worse.”

[roonil-waazlibb]

thethiingswelost​:

Teddy would feel bad for interrupting Ron who was focused so intently on the chess game, but he was beginning to feel increasingly more uneasy about what was on the horizon. It felt more necessary than ever to soak up as much time with those he loved as possible, because he was deeply afraid that their family was going to be torn apart. 

“Are you playing chess with yourself? That seems a little sad,” Teddy said with a chuckle. “If you’re in need of an opponent, my evening is clear,” he poured two glasses of whiskey, putting the stopper back in the decanter before moving to sit opposite Ron. “It’s strange hearing it so quiet around here,” Teddy sipped his whiskey, settling back to run a hand through his hair nervously. “Feels like the quiet before the storm.”

Ron shifts in his seat as Teddy enters the room, allowing his gaze to map the younger boy’s face, as if doing so could tell him the honest truth of how Teddy was. (He often regretted teaching the kid how to have a stellar poker face when it came to situations like these). Ron had never felt more old than in moments like these; wishing more than anything that their children did not have to fight the same war they once had tried.

“Might be,” he says lightly, a quirk of a smile playing at his mouth, “It’s good for strategy, bud, keeps the mind fresh. But you’re welcome to joy.” Taking the glass from Teddy’s hand, Ron inhales the scent for a moment before taking a small sip. “It does. There’s something in the air, like...things about to go to shit. More than usual.”

[roonil-waazlibb]

lilys​:

Of course, there was no replacing her dad in her heart, but Lily had always regarded her Uncle Ron almost as a second father, and she knew that he thought of her somewhat as a daughter too. He’d watched her grow from a newborn to a young woman, and he had always taken care of her, especially in the times when her actual dad couldn’t be around for whatever reason. So she couldn’t quite argue with his statement, even if she was sure that any conversation that started out with those words would be far from a pleasant one.

“Oh, no, nothing too dangerous. Just some maiming…maybe some light arson…” she quipped back, unable to help herself. At least she knew her Uncle Ron had a good sense of humor. “You know, you’re not the first person to come try to talk to me about my plans for this week. Are you and my dad tag-teaming again?”

Ron leans back on the heels of his feet a little, watching for any shifts or changes in Lily’s expression - although he had little doubt she was well-versed in the art of the poker face by now. He’d practically helped raise the kid after all, given his ongoing proximity with his sister and Harry, and Ron had never denied loving the Potter kids as much as he loved his own. He had long taken his role as house-husband very very seriously and that meant attempting to parent anyone who might need it - whether they wanted it or not.

“Just casual maiming, another day for you, yeah?” Ron says with a flicker of amusement, “Reckon you could aim for moderate to heavy arson though, might as well go big and all.” Mouth quirking a little at the thought, Ron shrugs both shoulders, “Less tag-teaming, more just caring about you. I think we all know that you inherited a heavy dose of recklessness from both sides of the family.” 

[thethiingswelost]

Who: Teddy & @roonil-waazlibb​ Where: 12 Grimmauld Place When: 22 April

12 Grimmauld Place had been full of hustle and bustle all day - well, for weeks really. But now there seemed to be a quiet hush over the place, like the calm before the inevitable storm. Teddy himself had tried to remain a calming presence, but inner stress really messed with his metamorphing and apparently his hair had been changing to all sorts of vivid colours as they went over and over and over the plans. This was going to be one of the biggest undertakings of the war - and Teddy was deathly afraid that his family wouldn’t survive it. 

He wasn’t sure he’d survive that.

Poking his head around the door of the sitting room, the tension left Teddy’s shoulders when he saw that the solitary occupant of the room was Ron. “Hey,” he said with a small, tight smile. Crossing the room, he picked up a decanter of whiskey (muggle stuff, good stuff) and raised it in offering. “Fancy a nightcap?”

[roonil-waazlibb]

The room around him was quiet for the first time in weeks - months maybe - and Ron couldn’t help but relish in the feeling. It was odd being back in Grimmauld Place, no matter how many times he stepped foot into the building. 

As if this would be the time he would blink, and he would be seventeen again, and everything could and would be different.

But it wasn’t and it couldn’t, and so instead Ron soaked up the quiet, head bent over the battered chess board set up in front of him. The pieces were old and rather grouchy, but they had come to a firm agreement and Ron quite enjoyed playing a game with no consequences.

Pieces could be repaired. Friends and family could not.

Head turning upward at the sound of a voice, Ron grins at his adoptive godson, nodding his head at the offer of a drink. “Would love one actually,” he says, “Feels like the night for it.”

[hercism]

who: ron & rose when: april 17, 2029, early evening where: dufftown safehouse

There were a mountain of non-perishables piled on the kitchen counter in the safehouse, all purchased or scrounged for for the purpose of feeding the Order members filtering through in preparation for taking back Hogwarts. Rose was on dinner duty tonight, and while they never claimed to have any real talent for cooking, they could follow a recipe. A hearty soup bubbled in a massive pot on the range, and three-and-a-half loaves of crusty bread sat on a cutting board next to the groceries they had no leftover energy to put away. A few people had wandered into the kitchen and claimed their portion, murmuring their thanks to Rose before meandering into the larger dining room to enjoy their meal. 

Ro opted not to join them. They weren’t feeling up for idle chatter. A mug of lukewarm tea and an untouched slice of bread lay next to them as they shook a bottle of midnight blue nail varnish and begin the methodical process of painting their nails. 

The door to the kitchen swung open, revealing a familiar face and mop of red hair. They paused their steady, repetitive strokes of nail polish to wave hello. “Hi, Dad. There’s food if you want it. I’m also offering manicures.” 

[roonil-waazlibb]

There had been enough happening in the various number of safehouses that he flittered between, that Ron almost felt as though he had not properly rested for days. Admittedly, he had gotten very used to running on minimal sleep, minimal food and minimal thought, but one might start to think that such things were unhealthy. 

Resisting the urge to collapse onto the nearest horizontal surface and sleep until he absolutely could not any longer, Ron moves toward the kitchen instead, his stomach already letting him know it’s exact thoughts about his attempts to deny it. Pushing the door open, he cannot help grin at the familiar face inside, shuffling forward to press a kiss to the crown of his eldest’s head.

“‘Lo,” he mumbles, glancing at the aforementioned food, “Long time, no see. Any chance I can take one of each?”

[roonil-waazlibb]

scarredsaviour​:

&.

Despite how good Harry had become at subterfuge, he still never seemed quite capable of sneaking up on Ron. It put a wry smile on his features, discordant with the solemnity of the night. “Yeah, at least we’re not camping anymore. That’s what haunts my nightmares.”  

Still, Ron certainly had a point. Harry shared a dubious look with him, before enveloping the cloak over the pair of them. 

“Not quite like first year, is it?” he said, quirking an eyebrow. The steel currently settling in Harry’s veins as he prepared for the task ahead didn’t quite allow for a grin to go with the words, but it was comforting, at least, to feel the warmth of Ron beside him, as close as they were, to know his best friend was still alive. Still fighting. 

Harry might not be certain of how much time he had left, but he knew this at least: that he’d keep fighting, too, for however long he had.

Wrinkling his nose at the mention, Ron resists the urge to audible groan. It wasn’t that they never talked about their ill-fated camping trip, they did, but it never failed to send an uncomfortable shiver down his spine whenever it came up. “Pretty sure that haunts all our nightmares, to be honest,” he remarks, “Fairly sure I’ve got a phobia about tents now.” 

The light material of Harry’s cloak is familiar to Ron, and yet he bites back a laugh at the sight of them both, knowing it was certainly not the occasion for laughter. The cloak had barely fit two of them at seventeen and it certainly did nothing for them at almost fifty, no matter the wave of nostalgia that envelopes him.

“Reckon it’s not too dissimilar. You with the wild plans, me with the back-up? We could almost be off to duel Malfoy in a corridor at this rate,” Ron remarks, a part of him wishing it were true; that the stakes were so much less. 

“’m assuming I’m on ankle duty then?”

[roonil-waazlibb]

who: ron & luna ( @lunarlovegd​ ) when: early april 16, 2029 where: hogwarts, outskirts

Were he of sound enough mind to know who it was, Ron would have praised whomever invented the cup of tea. He was sure that his wife would know, and could probably tell him within seconds of him asking, but he was also very well aware that it was not the time to be asking her such inane questions.

So instead he keeps himself busy, waving his wand listlessly at the base of the pot. The spell should be enough to insure it stays hot as he begins his rounds, feeling not unlike the poor trolley witch from his Hogwarts days.

“Need a top-up?” he says quietly to the familiar blonde nearby, “S’good to see you...even with the...y’know.”

[roonil-waazlibb]

who: ron & lily ( @lilys​ ) when: april 16, 2029 where: near hogwarts

Admittedly, even if he were not keeping an eye out for his growing number of nieces and nephews, Ron knew it would not be hard to spot them. There was the hair, obviously, for some of them, but for the rest it was almost like an aura, or the way they held themselves that just screamed “I am a Potter slash Weasley and I am here to cause a ruckus”.  And well, for Lily, it was both. 

Spotting his favourite Potter niece (a specific distinction that must be made, lest he face the wrath of his other nieces), Ron immediately changes direction toward her, knowing of everyone, she might be the one he worried about most.

“Y’know, as godfather, means I get to play the father card when yours isn’t around, right,” Ron says, taking a step forward so that he was shoulder to shoulder with Lily (or as much as they could, given their opposing statures). “You wouldn’t be planning anything dangerous, would you?”

[roonil-waazlibb]

who: ron & harry ( @scarredsaviour​ ) when: april 16, 2029 where: edge of the forbidden forest

Ron had had many terrible ideas in his life: the spice incident, the tent incident, half the things he let his children get away with, the ‘not hugging his mother enough’ incident. And yet, somehow, he had a feeling that this might be one of the worst.

But he was going to do it anyway.

Tapping his fingers listlessly against the wand in his pocket, Ron lifts his head slightly at the sound of footsteps behind him, as if he could recognise that familiar crunch of soil anywhere.

“You ready?” he asks solemnly, catching Harry’s eye before glancing at the equally as familiar material in his hands. “Dunno how we’re bloody going to fit under that one anymore, but we’ve had worse, yeah?”

[supersexybisexual]

My favorite type of characters are “they’re not dumb but they are a dumbass”

[iamnmbr3]

Characters with enough intellect and common sense to clearly and easily grasp that something is a Bad Idea, but with enough chaotic dumbass energy to decide they gotta just go ahead with it anyway are on point.

[gifshistorical]

Hugo Swann + 💔