location: outside of brigg’s brooms in diagon ally, london
open starter, anyone is welcome to reply!
if anyone were to ask him why he was here, ron wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer. he’d likely fumble over his words and his cheeks and ears would tinge red with embarrassment. he had no reason to shop for a new broomstick. it wasn’t like flying was a hobby of his, and he hadn’t played a proper quidditch game in ages. plus, he had his old broom stuffed in his closet at his flat. ron used to have harry’s as well, but he gave that back to his friend after he returned from the dead. still, he had been strolling down diagon ally’s streets, and seeing brigg’s brooms brought back so many memories.
memories as a child, tagging along as charlie, then percy, then fred and george, and finally himself, got to go to diagon ally and pick up school supplies . . . he’d always run straight over to brigg’s brooms, where he was standing now. he’d press his face and palms right up against the glance, his eyes comically wide as he observed the best, fastest new brooms on the market. for the rest of the year, he’d talk about it constantly, until the next visit where he saw the next broom. it’d been a simpler time . . . at least for him . . . until things with voldemort got really serious. now, everything was a mess. he was a mess.
ron was so deep into his thoughts that he didn’t notice that there was another person heading his way until they bumped into his shoulder.
1) Ron whirls his head around to try and catch the eye of the person who said that, unsure if it was really addressed to him, but kind of confidant it was because he recognized the voice.
2) Ron slips down the small stairs, as they were rather icy and still had some snow left on them.
He lands slightly awkwardly and although the air’s been knocked out of him, he quickly can tell that nothing’s broken. Bruised, sure, but it could have been worse. Now Ron looks up at the person who spoke, recognizing Viktor Krum, the man he used to fanboy over for being a great Quidditch player.
Ron quickly scrambles to his feet and chuckles. “I appreciate your efforts, although they were in vain,” he says, brushing some snow off him. “It’s been a while, yeah? How’ve you been?” He tries to quickly segue away from that embarrassing fall.
Ron started to nod his head, then stopped and sighed, letting his shoulders fall. “It’s a little cold,” he admitted, quietly. “But I’m okay, really. It’s no biggie.” He smiled up at his aunt, a woman that he didn’t see as often as he would’ve liked. There was something always tense between him and his mother — although, that could very well be his insecurities getting in the way. But around Aunt Clementine, the air felt lighter. He could be more honest, like admitting that he was cold instead of denying it like he would in any other situation.
