A/N: So, this is another story that just kind of came to me. I haven't really formed an opinion on it yet, so I'll let you do it for me.
Disclaimer: I own nothing… especially not Harry Potter
I walked into Kristin's room to see her sitting on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn't look at me when I entered, but I hadn't really been expecting her to; she'd been acting very glum in the last few days, and I had a feeling I knew exactly why. I stood in the doorway, watching her and remembering someone else who had once sat upon an obnoxious Chudley Cannons bedspread, much like Kristin's. Kristin's feet were propped up against the wall, and her hands were clasped tightly behind her head. Her flaming red hair was everywhere, just like always. Suddenly she spoke.
I strode over to her bedside and sat down. On the bed next to Kristin was her acceptance letter to Hogwarts. She had, like me, missed the cutoff date and had to wait a year to go to the school.
Kristin, not taking her eyes off the Weird Sisters poster she had her feet propped up against, had her brows furrowed.
"What was Dad like?"
I closed my eyes and sighed slowly. I knew this moment was coming soon, especially with father's day looming ahead at a rapid rate. I lay down on the bed so that her head was perpendicular to mine and my feet were on the floor.
"Well," I said slowly, not quite knowing where to begin with the story, "Your father was a funny guy. He loved to make people laugh, and yet he was very sarcastic and could be serious at times."
When Kristin said nothing, I continued.
"Ronald was loyal to the core – always willing to help out, but he had a certain knack for procrastination and laziness. And chess, come to think of it." I said, pausing with a smile to remember Ron sitting at one of his many chess games, and jumping up and down when he won.
"So he was like Uncle Harry?" Kristin said slowly.
"Not really," I said, "Well, I suppose they had their similarities, but they were very different. Harry was more of one to keep his thoughts to himself until he went mad, and Ron was more likely to say what he was thinking, unless he was thinking about women."
"Women? You mean in general, or just you?" Kristin asked, sitting up and swinging her feet out.
"In general," I replied, sitting up next to my daughter, "He had a girlfriend before me, but he wasn't really happy with her because –"
"Because he liked you, right Mum?" Kristin said, now genuinely interested.
I smiled warmly at her.
"That may have been a reason," I replied lightly, studying my cuticles with feigned interest and trying to suppress a wicked grin.
Kristin giggled, and then became rather somber again. She sighed and looked down at her feet, a small blush rising to her cheeks.
"I wasn't…" she said slowly, as if approaching the subject was a rather sensitive task, "I wasn't an… an accident, was I?"
I gave a half-hearted, very quiet laugh and stared at my feet.
"No. Not an accident…" My voice wavered slightly as I remembered the last night I had shared with Ron. "You see, the night before he… died, we, er – well, I don't want to embarrass you, but…"
"I get the picture," Kristin said hastily, her ears turning the same shade of red that Ron's used to.
"Yes, well, I purposely didn't do the contraceptive spell," I said quietly, "He knew, of course, but I don't think he was expecting anything to happen. Ron was like that sometimes – didn't really get reality until it smacked him in the face. He never really thought about us dying, I don't think. I don't think he ever thought any of us would."
"So dying was like a smack in the face for him?" Kristin said, a note of incredulity in her voice.
I sighed and replied, "Definitely not. Ron knew he was going to die a moment before he did, and he let it happen – he jumped in front of a killing curse."
Kristin faltered beside me and let out a breath rather quickly. I don't think that she had been expecting that answer, based on the description of Ron I had previously given.
"But I thought you said –"
"I said that Ron never really thought of us dying," I said with a hint of sternness in my voice, "But I also said that Ron was loyal to the core. He's the type that would take the Avada Kadavra for his best friend, and he did."
Kristin took a moment to pause, and I think that she might have been trying to swallow a lump in her throat.
"Who did he save? Harry, of course," I replied, "You know about the prophecy. Harry was the only one that could save everyone. Without Harry, well, we wouldn't be sitting here together, talking about it. The whole thing happened very quickly anyway; I don't think he was in any pain. Harry was dueling with Voldemort and –"
I stopped when I noticed Kristin flinch. I turned to her and she faced me, and it struck me just how much she looked like Ron. The same crystal blue eyes, the same hair, even the same freckles. It was like having a more feminine, bushy-haired Ron sitting in front of me.
"Don't flinch," I warned her sternly, "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Besides, there's nothing to fear, and you have Uncle Harry to thank for that."
This little segment was followed by an awkward pause, in which I knew Kristin was dying to here the rest of the story. I obliged.
"So there we were, in the 'front lines', as your grandfather always called them, and Harry was dueling with Voldemort. And then some Death Eater cast a killing spell at Harry, and Ron jumped in front of it. Harry was in such a state of shock that Voldemort almost killed him, too. But Harry's anger got the better of him and Voldemort was dead before he could contemplate the situation."
Kristin said nothing for a moment or two. Then she looked up at me, her mother, and I saw that her eyes were sparkling with tears.
"That's terrible," Kristin whispered, mortified.
"Ron wouldn't have wanted to go in any other way, other than naturally," I said quietly, "He died doing something he believed in more than anything else. He proved himself and everyone, and proved that love can overcome any obstacle that one might throw in front of it; jump any hurdle."
"Have you ever been in love again?" She asked me quietly.
"No. Not ever."
Kristin and I stared at each other, and before I knew it, she was hugging me tightly with shaking arms. I hugged her back just as tightly and we cried together for a minute or two. When we broke apart, both wiping our eyes, she looked up at me again. Suddenly I was under the impression that Ron was sitting in the room with us, listening with that lopsided grin he always wore; not wanting to add to the conversation, but always listening. Ron would always be listening to us. In my heart, I knew Ron was not gone – not for good, anyway. He would always be with us in our hearts and minds, in Kristin and even in myself.
"Dad was a real hero, wasn't he?" Kristin said in awe, though sadness was apparent in her voice.
I smiled and stood up from the bed. Kristin hopped up and grabbed my hand.
"He was," I replied, "He really was."
A/N: Yeah, so I don't really know what to say about this one.