Ron woke on the bright and early in his older attic bed room and habitually grabbed his journal. Within the silence of the morning where even the ghoul remained quiet, it was perfect for writing. With a well kept quill and inkwell at the ready, he wrote in his journal in well practiced and familiar strokes.
A small prelude to the writing he would do later. The brief quiet before Christmas, with snow dusting outside and a sweet calmness he hadn't felt in quite some time.
Just a way to keep his thoughts organized. Especially since Fred had died. He knew it had hit George rather hard. It had hit them all hard, but Ron couldn't imagine how it would have been to lose a twin. He guessed it was much like, missing an ear. Something so close and you swear you can't live without it after having it your entire life. The very idea that one day it could be gone was not something anyone considered.
He never did. None of them did.
But they couldn't just stop living. Wouldn't that mean that in a sick and twisted way that Voldemort had won? Even if it had been a bitter victory only preying on their psyche.
He sighed quietly to himself. He'd have to go back through some of his older journals. He wanted to remember the good times.
But for some reason, he couldn't seem to find those bloody books. Curse his messy habits.
He really needed to get organized. Some day. But not today.
It was Christmas for goodness sake.
With tired excitement, he went to meet with everyone in the main living space and took his spot on the couch as everyone began to wake up and gather. His body felt exhausted and he felt so much older. Tradition had it, they would open presents, then his mum would make a breakfast feast.
One by one, each person filtered into the room. Waves of red hair with the single splashes of black and brown.
"Happy Christmas everyone," Ron said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. As wonderful a holiday it was, with Voldemort forever gone, it was still one with one Weasley short. The first of many without him.
"Happy Christmas," was just as enthusiastically returned. Flier confidentially sat on the armrest of the chair Bill was sitting in. Hermione sat to his left and George took a place to his right, not wanting to sit in his usual spot where he and Fred would joke. He instead attempted to take comfort from being close to one of his living, breathing siblings.
Harry was the last one in, awkwardly carrying packages with a sheepish grin.
Some were large, some were small. But each one seemed to have a rather poor wrapping job. Not that Ron's was much better, but he had some practice. His looked openable, Harry's looked like it was covered in Devil's Snare. Kind of like when Fred and George decided to make impossible to open gifts one year for the holidays. It was infuriating and one of the best days ever. No one could leave until all the gifts were unwrapped and Percy practically wrestled with his for the better part of an hour. The metal book mark inside was nice though, and Ron knew he still used it.
"Got enough packages Harry?"
"I think so."
"Well, good. Otherwise you're going to make us look bad," Ron joked.
"Never." With that, Harry distributed the gifts he brought to their designated person, surprising Ron with the largest package, landing on his lap. Ron grunted under the weight. He couldn't tell what was in the lumpy package but whatever it was it was heavy.
"Bloody Hell Harry-"
"Ronald," Molly butted in, "Watch your language. It's Christmas."
"Yes mum."
Harry grinned at Ron.
"Oh rack off Harry."
"Happy Christmas to you too Ron."
Harry's eyes gazed under the tree and his brow furrowed. He may not have been a necessarily a brilliant witch like Hermione, who was really? But even he could notice an odd trend with a set of gifts. All were in slightly different paper. Some using the same paper a different way, but they all seemed to hold a package of the same size and dimensions. But no... It couldn't be. Surely they were going to different people. And they couldn't all be the same thing... Could they?
He'd find out soon enough he mused.
"Big packages under the tree this year," Ron muttered quietly. He hoped that the gifts didn't make him look bad. As selfish as it was, he didn't want to look like the cheapskate with the gift giving. Someone had obviously taken a lot of effort with the larger gifts. And given Harry just walked in with his to hand out, he knew someone else must have gone all out. Ron could feel the tips of his ears burning. Of course they would go all out. He-who... Voldemort was gone. For good this time. And his brothers were grown and had jobs, loves of their own freeing up his mum and dad's savings.
A harsh bitterness settled in his mind over the need to find a job too. But he pushed it aside to enjoy Christmas.
It was Charlie who stood up and walked over to the tree to begin the distribution of gifts as he opened his gift from Harry. Normally a shared responsibility between the twins since they had learned to read... They always loved to mix up the gifts or make exaggerated presentation of the presents. Ron could hear the tearing of paper as his mother and father eagerly took pictures.
"Aren't you going to open yours Ron?" Harry asked with a slightly devious glint in his Slytherin green eyes. Ron grinned at his friend and gave a quick glance around the room realizing he was the only one who hadn't opened Harry's gift yet. He eagerly began to try and unwrap the tight lumpy mess to see what Harry had gotten him.
Whatever it was, it was heavy. There was good natured laughter as Ron fought with the packaging far more than anyone else. Curses to them for receiving bloody small and easy to open packaging.
He grinned as he finally ripped the paper enough to see something other than wrapping paper, not even noticing what it was until the paper was ripped clean off. His grin remained on his face but took on a confused tone. The room grew a bit quieter as his present from Harry was noticed. Ron read the title and missed the looks darting among the different people in the room.
"Going to school with the boy who lived?" Ron finally chuckled and looked over at Hermione who seemed a little bothered, "Why didn't you tell me you wrote a book Mione?"
"I didn't."
Ron raised a brow curiously and flipped the book on the back only to choke on air. He paled as he saw a rather unflattering moving picture of him looking surprised his picture was being taken. Ron remembered the shot. Neville had taken it when he had been running late for training. The image captured it in all of its glory, giving a profile and occasionally looking directly back at whoever was looking at the picture. Ron didn't blame the image, he didn't like the picture either.
Remembering to breathe, he inhaled and felt his ears begin to burn. He flipped the book around and in a move that would normally surprise everyone, he opened it to the first page. Inside was ink scrawl Ron recognized as Harry's handwriting.
'Happy Christmas Ron. I hope you enjoy this stroll down memory lane as much as I did. Don't worry, Professor McGonagall won't give you detention for this. We got it all sorted out. Your best mate, Harry Potter.'
Ron gave another choked noise and looked at Harry in confusion. But all he could get out was, "Detention?"
Now it was Harry's turn to take a blush.
"Professor McGonagall wanted to talk to us about some of our, earlier adventures."
"McGonagall?" Ron flipped to the first page of the actual "story" to attempt to make sense of what was going on with this book from seemingly nowhere.
'First day, new journal. Is it wrong to be this excited? Well, so long as Fred and George don't know so they won't call me mini Percy it should be fine. Hogwarts is only a train ride away. I've got my trunk, Scabbers, and Mum is downstairs making sandwiches for the trip. I hope it isn't Corned Beef...
It was Corned beef.'
That should have been forgettable. But that was clearly the day he left for Hogwarts his first year. The excitement, the corned beef. Why was that of all things so memorable?
'We never did eat that sandwich did we?'
"My journal."
"Yes Ron."
"You read it?"
Ron jumped when more than just Harry answered yes. He looked over everyone in the room and saw either guilty or knowing expressions. He groaned and looked back at Harry. He just wanted to have a Happy Christmas. He could ask them later when and why they read his journal. Also why Harry seemed to have seen it fit to turn his journals of his Hogwarts years into a leather bound book.
"Well as mortifying as this is, thank you Harry. Can't wait to read your little commentary."
"You added commentary?" Hermione asked Harry.
"It seemed like the right thing to do."
"Right. I'll just put this here for now. I believe we have more gifts to unwrap?"
Ron could feel a shift in the mood. Not a negative one, but a prepared one. He watched as the gifts he got for others were opened. Thanks were given and more gifts were distributed, including yet another large package on his lap. Thankfully easier to open, he stared blankly at a copy of Going to school with the boy who lived. Instinctively, he flipped it over to see the same unflattering shot of the previous book.
He felt eyes back on him as he was uncharacteristically quiet.
"Bill."
"Yes Ron?"
"What is this?"
"A gift from me and Fluer," he stated rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
"A book. This book?"
Was this some kind of elaborate prank?
"Yes. Must say Ron, you had some rather wild adventures didn't you?"
"You already knew that. Told you in letters to Egypt."
"You don't write as many letters as you think Ron."
Christmas continued on, Ron getting slightly more irritable with each gift he received. Leather bound copies of his journals from school, with a casual glance, it was obvious everyone had taken an opportunity to write in their own gift to him. That being said, why had they each given him a copy of his journals. And why were they all leather bound copies? Did Harry help them pay for this? Whose idea was it?
All he gotten was his own edited journals. The straw that broke the broom was when he got the final one from Hermione.
"Okay. Whose idea was it?" Ron grumbled looking around the room.
"We didn't plan this Ron," Harry spoke quickly.
"Though we did seem to have the same idea," Hermione admitted.
"Great minds think alike," Charlie chuckled.
"Please, if that were the case, we'd all be rich selling our own accounts of Hogwarts."
"Wai- Huh? Selling?"
"Just about in every book store Ronnikins," George proclaimed, "Many are calling you the next Lockhart."
"Bloddy hell."
Well, I hope you are all happy with yourselves. Yet another foresaken chapter to hopefully finish this story once and for all. Everyone can thank Chuck Mangione's Land of Make Believe.