WHO: Ron Weasley and Ginny Weasley WHAT: He's sulking and making faces about Malfoy times. WHEN: Afternoon. WHERE: Outside the complex. RATING: PG to start.
Ron didn't want to think about the life he'd just left behind. The fake life. The one where he was born and raised into a rich family of obnoxious, self-centered, Death Eater savvy idiots who didn't have a bloody clue about anything. They pretended they did. They went on about how Voldemort was going to rip them a new one, about how Ron was to follow the Dark Lord's every command, should he hope to see his family survive, but they didn't really know. They thought that if they didn't follow the Dark Lord, that they'd all be destroyed. Murdered. Tortured. The whole nine fucking yards. Except that wasn't true, was it? Ron knew. He'd been out in the world, on the run, watching his back every second of every day out of the raw, brutal fear that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were going to find him, Harry, and Hermione. They'd lived in the wild, they'd suffered through distancing themselves from all that they loved, but they had done it and they had survived. Barely, loads of times, yeah, but they had. And it was for the good of the world that they'd done it. It was out of the need for survival, quite like the Malfoy family, except rather than bending over on one knee and taking it up the arse like the Malfoys had, the trio had decided to take a different course of action. They had tried to do something about the war. They did more than look for ways to survive. They had fought back for what they believed in, they had suffered for what was right, and they had done everything in their power to stand up for those that they had loved.
Ron felt sorry for them. Not because of how hard they had it, tucked away in that mansion of theirs, but because of how close-minded they were to believe that they had no other option than to keep their heads down between their legs while Voldemort did as he pleased with them. It was fucking disgusting and Ron didn't want any part of it.
Back pressed to the wall along the side of the complex building, Ron sat down in the grass and looked out across the small field that separated the complex from the road ahead. He had spent so long wishing to get back to the world that he had belonged to. Ron had wanted to go home, he had wanted to see his family, his friends -- everything that he had left behind. For the first time in over two years, Ron got sent back. Except he had got sent back wrong. His friends had hated him, his family hadn't existed at all...
Mouth twisting into a frown, Ron turned his wand over in his hands. It wasn't fair.
Ron had been sitting outside for a while. The walls of his flat had seemed so crowded and he didn't particularly feel like pacing the floor of he and Steph's bedroom over and over again more than he already had. Being out here was better. The cool, fall air made him feel a little less like he couldn't breathe. Now if only it'd take away the memory of his mum and Lucius Malfoy being married. The thought of the two standing together, all cold, yet in love made his insides turn unpleasantly. He'd rather mate with the giant squid back at Hogwarts than think of the two of them together. And that was saying something because ugh. Giant squid.