Hello! I have been thinking about this for a while now, and am SO excited to start sharing. I had a hard time leaving the PS universe behind for good, so when this idea popped into my head, I just couldn't resist it's temptation.
This is 'Pulley System', but all from Ron's POV. The main story line will be the same of course, but there will also be missing moments that weren't in PS as well, so hopefully it will be almost like a completely new fic!
I am not going to rush this at all (also writing CWW) so no promises on updates. It will most likely be about the same amount of chapters as the original (fifteen) but no promises on that either. It could run longer, but I highly doubt that it will run shorter.
You will not *need* to have read PS to understand this fic, but it will definitely help to do so. I might leave out certain bits or conversations that were held in the first one, but it should still run smoothly anyway.
As much as I would love this to line up chapter by chapter with the first, this will not be the case. I plan to delve even further into this universe this time, and hopefully make it even better. Realistically, I can't make it perfectly line up, but hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway! Plus, Ron is a complex character with a lot of complicated feelings, and I want to do him justice because I love him :)
Just a PSA- there will be certain things that Ron thinks about (dealing with his insecurities, etc.) These are Ron's thoughts, not mine, and I absolutely do not believe them to be true. (I say this so I am not accused of 'Ron-bashing') Nothing too dark or anything, just mainly stuff about him feeling 'not good enough' and self doubting himself- things of that nature.
Thank you so very much to my lovely beta's Accio, Be11a, & Cheesy. (accio_broom)(be11atrixthestrange)(cheesyficwriter)
If you read romione fics, I'm absolutely positive that you have heard about them! They are all amazing, and so far have been such a great help, so go give them some love! I wanted this pic to be perfect, and with their help, hopefully it can be pretty close :)
Also, thank you to Arrayofcolours for the title help. You're brilliant!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this perspective from Ron's end of the rope!
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Eleven-year-old Ron Weasley could barely contain his excitement as he fidgeted in his seat, his knee bouncing up and down with anticipation as he stared out of the window, watching the trees on the side of the motorway whiz by. He and his whole family were currently crammed in their minibus, and his dad was following a large moving van to their new home. He could hardly believe that he would be living in a house with stairs for the first time in his life, and he couldn't wait to get there.
All of his siblings were currently chattering away, but Ron couldn't be bothered to listen more than half-heartedly. His own room. That was all he could think about.
It was only three weeks prior that his parents had called a family meeting before making the five children sit down in the living room.
"I have an announcement to make," his dad said eagerly as his mum smiled at them all. "You know that I have gotten a significant raise at work," he went on, a proud look on his face as they all nodded. "Well, your mum and I have been keeping this top secret, but we have recently bought a house, and we will soon be moving!"
Ron turned to look at his siblings, who were staring at their dad in shock.
"It is much bigger than this one, and it has five bedrooms," his mum added, as she gave Ron and his little sister Ginny a pointed look.
Ron's heart stopped.
Even after his older brothers Bill and Charlie had moved out, their little house had still been too cramped, especially as they all were growing and taking up more space. Ron always felt as if he had gotten the raw end of the deal, because his parents had forced him to share a room with his younger sister. It was humiliating having to share his space with a girl. He loved Ginny dearly, but he knew that he would be too humiliated to ever have anybody over.
"I get my own room?" he asked quietly, almost unable to process the idea.
His dad eagerly nodded. "Yes, you and Ginny will each have your own room," he confirmed.
Both Ron and Ginny had let out squeals of delight before embracing each other and jumping up and down in excitement.
The three weeks had dragged on for what seemed like forever, but it had come, and today would be the very first time they would be seeing their new home. Ron had purposely gotten into the van last, wanting to be nearest to the door so he could hastily get out and have the first pick of the rooms. He knew that he wasn't the fastest, but reckoned that he was quick enough, and with the head start, he might be able to choose first.
His room was going to be the best. He'd paint it whatever color he liked, decorate it however he wanted, and best of all, there wouldn't be a bunch of pink and girly things mixed in with all of his stuff. He imagined all of his siblings coming in to admire his room, and smiled to himself as he pictured the look of jealousy that would be on their faces.
With as many siblings as he had, Ron had never really had anything that he could call his own; what few possessions he did have were mainly secondhand and were no longer new and exciting. No one had ever been envious of him for anything before, but this was going to change soon. He just knew it. Things were going to be different, and it would all start with him picking out his very own room, the best room in the house.
"Okay kids, this is it!" Arthur Weasley announced loudly as he turned into a small neighborhood, pulling Ron from his thoughts as he barely managed not to tear off his seatbelt and jump out of the window in impatience.
All of the houses on the block were of a similar shape and size, and were close together. They continued down the long street, and the kids knew which house was theirs when they saw the moving van backing into the driveway. All of their faces were pressed against the glass, staring in wonderment. Theirs was the very last house on the right, with another house on one side and a small patch of woods on the other.
As soon as his dad drove up to the side of the curb and put the car in park, Ron yanked the sliding door open and scrambled out as fast as he could. This was it, his chance to claim the best room in the place. His moment of victory was brief though, because everyone jumped out right after him, and he was knocked roughly to the ground. With a painful thud, his chin hit the concrete, and his vision went momentarily black. With a grimace, he looked up from the ground to see his entire family running and then disappearing into the house, not even bothering to look back.
He felt his eyes fill up with tears. He knew for certain that he would be getting the very last pick of the rooms now, and with his luck, it would be small and ugly—just like him. Although this hurt, what pained him even more was the fact that no one had checked to see if he was okay. He wondered if any of them had even noticed that he had fallen, or that he wasn't currently with them inside.
He was the least important person out of his whole family. He had always known, although this didn't stop it from hurting him much deeper than just a physical level.
He stood up, not bothering to hurry because even if he did, he knew that it was already a lost cause. He gripped his chin, feeling the blood that dripped heavily down his neck and right onto his favorite shirt that was probably stained forever.
He bit the inside of his cheek. He would not cry. Dejected, he started to make his way up the sidewalk towards the front door. He noticed a small patch of wildflowers in the space between his house and the next, and when his eyes went further up, he saw an open window on the second story of the neighboring home. His eyes widened when he saw a girl around his own age sitting there, her eyes glued to him. She had bushy brown hair and big brown eyes that were watching his every move.
His first reaction was surprise. Usually, no one bothered to look at him, and he rather liked it that way. He tried never to draw any attention to himself, preferring to watch everything around him instead.
His second reaction was extreme embarrassment. She had probably just seen him get knocked flat onto his face, and he knew that he hadn't looked so tough when it had happened. For some reason, the fact that she didn't take her eyes off of him even as he stared back made him angry.
"Oi! What are you looking at?" he yelled up at her, hoping that she would get the hint and stop staring.
He felt a twinge of regret for snapping as her mouth dropped open in shock. Her face quickly went from disbelief to anger though, as she set her features into a scowl. With a scoff, he turned his head away from her and continued into his new house.
The first thing he came across as he stepped inside, was the sight of his parents standing in the middle of the large and unfurnished living room, sharing a hug. His mum turned her head and set her eyes on him first, before letting out a gasp and rushing forwards, pulling his hand off of his chin to look at his wound.
"Oh, my boy!" she exclaimed, distraught. "We thought you had already made it upstairs! Let me see!"
At the concern in her voice, Ron couldn't help but smile just a bit. He may not be the best son or close to her favorite, but he knew that his mum did love him.
"I'm okay, mum. It's just a scratch," he said, wincing as she tilted his head further up.
"This is not just a scratch, Ronnie! It looks like it might even need stitches!"
His dad walked over to see for himself. "Ah, yeah, that's a good one," Arthur Weasley said softly. "I think it will heal just fine with some butterfly bandages, Molly," he added, trying to reassure his wife.
While his dad went to get the first aid kit out of the van, his mum instructed him to sit on the kitchen counter. When his dad returned, his mum patched him up, before telling him to go upstairs and find his room.
As he walked by, he saw that Fred and George had already picked out the only available room downstairs. He stared into it with envy. The room was huge and the walls were painted a cool green color.
With dread, he walked over to the stairs.
There were four doors at the top, two on the right and two on the left. The first door on the left was open, and when he passed it, he saw Ginny's stuffed animals in the middle of the floor. Although smaller than the twins' room, her room was a decent size and had three large windows. He moved on to inspect the others.
Percy was already unpacking a box in the next room on the left, and although his room was smaller than Ginny's, it was an interesting oval shape with high, arched ceilings. Ron turned to the other side of the small hallway. The first room on the right was a bathroom. It was a decent enough size, and although quite plain, it was much bigger than their last bathroom.
He knew that the last room on the left had to be his, and with a sigh, he turned the handle and pushed the door open.
It was the smallest bedroom out of them all, but he was happy to see that it was at least a little bit bigger than his last room. The shape was nothing remarkable, it was just about a perfect square. The ceiling was flat, and the walls were white and unexciting. There was only one window, which was also- average. He took a few steps in then stopped when he realized that his window was directly across from the window where the bushy-haired girl had been sitting earlier, her lilac curtains now closed.
He suddenly felt incredibly guilty as he thought about her. She had been staring at him. Why had she been staring at him? What if she wanted him to be her friend, but he had already ruined it?
He had never really had a friend, or at least, not a close friend. At his previous school, he kept to himself, and most of the time, he felt almost invisible there. He hoped with the move, and with the new school, that this would change, and he would have a real chance to be popular for once.
What if that girl next door was in his class? What if she told everyone what a loser he was and how he had almost cried like a baby? It would certainly be his luck.
No. Ron told himself as he shook his head. He wasn't going to let that happen. He was going to fix this one way or the other. He wanted friends, and he was going to start with that girl. Sure, he would rather befriend a boy, but the opportunity was just too good, she literally lived right across from him. Maybe he could get them walkie talkies or something—that would be cool, and perhaps she would think so too.
The family spent the rest of the day unpacking as the movers unloaded the truck, but his thoughts rarely went anywhere else. He was going to make that girl his friend, no matter what.
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A few days later, he was in his room, still unpacking his things from the stacks of boxes in the corner. He was happy when he opened a box to see his airsoft gun and grinned when he saw his big container of pellets in there as well. The gun had been Charlie's and then Fred's before it had been his, but Ron had gotten the container of neon green pellets for his birthday, and he enjoyed shooting at random objects and watching the little balls bounce off of them. As he pulled them out, he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Tonight, he would shoot it at the bushy-haired girl's window to get her to talk to him. He hadn't seen her since the very first day that they had gotten there, but she hadn't been far from his mind since.
After dinner, Ron went to his room with a plan to do it. He paced around for a while, trying to work out his nerves. He had never done anything like this before, and it was daunting. He already knew that the girl didn't like him, so he was starting at a disadvantage. Not only that, he figured that he would have to be extra funny and friendly in order to win her over, and would also need to apologize for yelling at her the other day. He groaned; this was going to be harder than he thought. He kept pacing, and by the time he finally gathered the courage it was already eleven o'clock.
He knew that she was probably already asleep, but now that he had talked himself into it, he didn't want to waste any more time. He loaded up the airsoft gun, and before he could talk himself out of it, he started pelting her window. Before long, he saw the girl opening up her curtains and again staring daggers at him. She was wearing light blue pyjamas, and her bushy hair was an absolute mess. He briefly wondered how it was humanly possible to have so much hair. He could tell that she was furious, and he had to fight the urge to immediately stop what he was doing. She might have been little, but she looked pretty scary. So, he kept the grin plastered to his face as he continued to muster up every last ounce of confidence, determined not to stop until she opened her window to talk to him. This just had to work.
The girl put her hands on her hips as he kept on, the scowl on her face deepening. She eyed his hand as if she were waiting for something, and he realized that she was probably waiting for him to run out of pellets. With his free hand, he lifted his giant container of pellets to show her that there were plenty of them left and laughed when her eyes grew wide in disbelief. It seemed as if she had finally run out of patience, and she knew that he wasn't going to stop, so she threw open her window and leaned her head out. He immediately set the airsoft gun down on his desk, wanting her to know that he wouldn't be shooting it at her anymore.
Her mouth opened, presumably to start yelling, but he cut her off before she could.
"Finally!" he exclaimed as he let out a breath of relief. "That only took forever."
"That only took- what?!" she shrieked back at him, and he tried not to cringe at the hostility in her voice.
"Shhhh!" he said, not wanting anyone in his family to wake up. "What's your name?" he asked curiously.
"That is absolutely none of your business!" she responded angrily, and he resisted the urge to snap back at her. Sure, he had been rude first, but he was trying to make up for it now if she would just give him a bloody chance.
"I'm Ron," he told her, trying to remain calm and friendly. "Sorry for being rude the other day. It wasn't my finest moment," he said as he shrugged sheepishly.
"Yeah, well, you're being even more rude right now! What makes you think that you can just wake me up like that? That you can even aim your little plaything at my window? You are extremely immature, and I should march right over there tomorrow and tell your parents what you were doing."
Uh oh. She was angrier than he had originally thought. Maybe waiting until she was in bed was a bad idea.
"Oh no! Please don't tell my parents! I'll do anything!" he said in mock seriousness before slapping the window sill as he started giggling, hoping that she would begin to laugh back.
She didn't.
"What do you want? Just go ahead and tell me so I can get back to bed," she said as she crossed her arms.
"You're the nicest!" he said with a laugh.
If possible, she looked even more irritated at this, and he was just about to apologize and start over when he heard a click behind him and his bedroom was suddenly illuminated with light.
"Ronald Weasley!" his mum's voice rang out, causing him to yank the window curtain closed, so she wouldn't see the girl.
"Why are you awake at this hour? And who were you talking to?"
Ron gulped.
"I-I was singing," he stuttered, but he could tell that his mum wasn't buying it.
"Ronald. Please don't tell me that you were flirting with the girl next door. You are much too young for me to have to start worrying about that just yet."
Ron felt his cheeks go crimson as his mouth dropped open, aghast. "No! Of course not! I don't like her like—like that," he mumbled. "I was just telling her sorry for being rude to her the other day."
Mrs. Weasley crossed her arms in front of her. "Rude? Why were you rude to that poor girl?"
"I didn't—I didn't mean to be rude! But the point is that I'm trying to fix it."
She let out a sigh as she gestured to his bed, and he obediently crawled in.
"Yes, you do need to fix it," she agreed. "But wait until it is at an appropriate hour to do so, alright?"
He nodded as she walked over to plant a small kiss on his forehead. He was glad that he had closed his curtains because if the girl were to see this happen, he would have been extremely embarrassed.
"Goodnight, Ronnie," his mum said softly before walking to the door and turning out the light.
He didn't fall asleep right away, his thoughts going a million miles a minute. He had made things even worse between him and the girl. He knew she certainly hadn't been happy at all with his plan.
He let out a sigh. He was going to have to think of something better—and soon. He thought about his walkie talkie idea that he had had earlier. It was cool enough, Ron supposed, but he needed something better, a way that they could communicate- something that would impress her and make her like him enough to want to be his friend.
The idea came to him suddenly, and he sat up in bed, excited. His dad had bought some small pulleys a couple years ago when he was making his mum a clothesline, and Ron knew that there had been extras. He would string a 'pulley system' between their houses! That way, they could communicate whenever they wanted to. The idea was genius, and as he lay back down in his bed, he had a huge grin on his face. He wasn't going to give up. That bushy-haired girl would be his friend; he would make sure of it.
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That morning after breakfast, Ron had asked his dad for some help in the garage. As they opened the garage sectional door so they could see better, Ron explained his idea to his father.
"So- you want to string a pulley system to befriend the girl next door?" his dad asked with a small smirk on his face.
"Yeah," Ron said simply, trying not to show just how intent he was on the scheme.
Arthur Weasley had stared at him a little bit longer than usual, but had been all too happy to help his son find what he needed to get the job done. Since his dad was always tinkering with things, the garage was filled with a bunch of random knick-knacks, much to Molly Weasley's displeasure. It had taken a bit of rummaging in the unpacked boxes to find the two small pulleys, but the nails, rope, and the little pail were relatively easy to find with his dad's help.
Afterwards, Ron had set things up on his side of the house first, before carrying the ladder to the girl's side of the fence. He had barely made a few hits with the hammer when the girl's face appeared out of her window, scaring the daylights out of him and almost making him fall.
He threw his hand over his heart. "Blimey whatever-your-name-is! You just about gave me a heart attack! If I would have fallen just now and broken my neck, it would have been all your fault. Imagine how guilty you would have felt then!" he said as he grinned at her.
She stared hard at him as if she didn't know what to say. Her eyes went to the rope and he watched as she followed it from her house to his.
"Pulley system." he said, pulling her attention back to him. When he got no response except a gape, he continued. "I'm going to attach this little pail to the rope." He held up a small metal pail to show her. "And add these little pulleys to both sides-" He held up the little metal pieces in his hand. "And we will be able to send things back and forth to each other. Brilliant right?"
After a moment of staring at him with a dumbfounded look on her face, she finally found her voice. "What makes you think that I will accept anything that you send me?" she asked him coolly. "What makes you think that I will ever send anything back to you?!"
He shrugged. "You will," he said airily, trying to seem confident and sure of himself.
She scoffed. "You better pull that nail from my house, or I will personally do it!" she snapped at him before slamming her window shut.
Regardless though, he hadn't taken it down, and now it was dark outside and he was trying to figure out what to write to her for the very first time. He didn't want to seem overeager, so he knew he needed the message to be short and straight to the point.
Finally, he settled on two simple words, 'What's up?' and scribbled them down.
He opened his window, put the small folded piece of paper in the pail, and pulled the top rope towards him. He smiled as he watched the bucket effortlessly make its way over to the girl's house before stopping with a loud 'tap' on her window, and then he pulled the rope several more times for good measure. It worked, and the girl appeared quickly, opening her window immediately this time.
He was happy to see that she didn't look quite as annoyed as she had been in their previous encounters, but she still didn't look overjoyed as she hesitantly took the piece of paper out of the pail and opened it to read his words. His heart dropped when she turned around, and he thought that she was going back to bed, but only seconds later, she was back, and he watched as she put the same piece of paper back into the pail and started to pull the top rope.
Thrilled, he clapped his hands at her, glad that she had figured it out so quickly, but the face that she gave him made it quite apparent that she didn't appreciate his clapping. He read the words she had written on the back of his note.
Leave me alone!
Even though it certainly wasn't a friendly message, he couldn't help but let out a laugh. No matter what it said, she had written him back! That was progress, and he would take it!
Admit it, this is cool.
Why are you trying so hard to talk to me? I really don't like you, and I don't even think that you particularly like me. So what are you playing at?
The truth was, he wasn't exactly sure why he was so determined for her to be his friend, as he had never wanted to win someone over so much. He didn't want her to know just how much he wanted her friendship, though, so he played it cool.
I honestly don't know. But if we are destined to live directly across from each other, what's the harm in at least trying to be friends? What's your name?
I don't see us ever being friends, although I applaud your dedication. If you must know, my name is Hermione Granger. Can you please let me go to sleep now?
He looked up at her, a wide grin on his face. He finally knew her name. She was looking back at him now, but she no longer seemed angry. Frustrated maybe, but not angry. He wrote down one last message before sending it back to her.
Goodnight Hermione Granger.