DICLAIMER: Don't own HP.

I was wondering the other day what Ron would think of Molly going all BAMF on Bellatrix and if he still felt like the "leftover", if you will, in his family. Hence this litle ficlet. I might edit it a bit and add some on, but for now this is what I've got. Please review, and I apologize for any OOC-ness, I'm not used to writing the Weasleys.

He wonders.

Sitting in the front yard of the Burrow, looking up at the stars (sometimes Harry is there, and more often than not Hermione is, but right now it's just him) Ron thinks back to the battle, the final moments.

(Has it really only been three months since Fred died?)

He sees his mother crouching over his older brother; smiles slightly as the now-famous line—"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"—echoes once more through his head. It seems almost funny now, the way Molly had charged Bellatrix, but at the time they'd been absolutely terrified, sure Voldemort's lieutenant would rip their matriarch to shreds. But he thinks about it a lot, and as he thinks, he wonders.

Would she have done that for me? Fred and George were the funny, smart ones; in spite of everything she'd said, Ron knew that Molly was proud of the joke shop, proud of how they had started and managed a business all on their own. Hell, when it came down to it, everyone loved the twins; it was hard not to. And of course Ginny was the youngest, also the only girl. But he, Ron—well, it was no secret that he was the mediocre one, was it? He was exceptionally average at everything: School, Quidditch…relationships. Ron cringes slightly as he remembered walking out on Harry and the numerous occasions of shooting nasty comments Hermione's way.

Hermione; Merlin's beard, that girl made him dizzy. There was absolutely no reason for her to be with him, but the only time he'd been stupid enough to mention that she launched into a good twenty-minute tirade on how he mustn't EVER think ANYTHING of the sort. Truthfully he hadn't really heard much of it, just stared at her and marveled that it was true, anger did make girls prettier.

Would Mum have reacted that way if it was me?

"If what was you?" He jumps and turns to see Molly standing behind him looking slightly puzzled. A wooden spoon covered in tomato sauce sits in her right hand; evidently she had come out to call him for supper. Ron smiles quickly.

"Nothing, Mum, just—wait, how did you know what I was thinking?"

"You spoke."

"Oh." He feels his ears heat; Idiot. "Anyways, it was nothing. Don't worry."

"With you it's always something, or at least used to be." Her smile falters, and he knows she's thinking of how he, Harry and Hermione kept the Horcrux mission secret in spite of her best efforts to ferret it out.

Ron opens his mouth to reassure her, but ends up for some reason blurting out: "If it had been me in Ginny's place, would you still have reacted the way you did? Or even Fred; if I'd died, would you—?"

The boy—no, he is a young man now—is cut off as Molly rushes toward him and wraps him in her arms. He's taller than she is now, by more than a couple of heads, and so he yelps as she yanks him down to her level. "Mum?"

"Yes." Her voice is trembling, and at that moment he wants to Crucio himself for making her cry. The days when she doesn't cry are rare, and until his brilliant little outburst a few seconds ago, it looked like today would be one of them. "Yes, I would. If it had been you in Ginny's place, I would have done the same thing I did with her. And F-Fred…" Molly chokes and trails off, tightening her arms around him. "Losing you would kill me just as much."

"I'm sorry." Ron's eyes are burning, and he presses against her, wishing he could take some of the pain. "I'm sorry for asking."

"I love you, Ron."