Versions// Ron Weasley X Reader

Twelve

Ron and I casually walk from the stairs over to the living room, Draco nowhere in sight. Ron sighs and offers to hide the bag in his pocket. Ron had grown quite tall over the years, so his pockets were big enough to easily conceal an apple.

I hand it over and continue looking around the room. Still no sign of Draco. I do catch a glimpse of Lucius, following around the Minister of Magic like a lost puppy, but Draco didn't seem to be riding on his father's coattails tonight.

I turn to Ron. "It's so crowded in here. Shall we step outside a moment?"

He nodded. "Please." and led the way out the front door. 

It being late December, the air was sharp. It still felt nice after being in the Burrow for a while. It was large in height, but not in width, so people were quite cramped in there. Ron and I wander across the yard and find ourselves leaning on the door of the shed. 

"It's chillier than I'd have imagined." Ron thought aloud, looking up at the stars.

"It's kind of nice," I say, but contradict myself by hugging my arms and shuddering. Ron looks down at me and awkwardly removes his suit jacket.

"Here," he says quietly, placing the jacket on my shoulders, "I hate to cover up your dress. It's nice. You look... You seem colder than you let on." He smiles softly and leans back against the shed.

"Thanks, Ron." 

The two of us go silent for a moment. The night is extremely quiet. I listen for any bugs, or birds, or gnomes, but can only pick up the soft sound of Ron's breathing.

"Y/N." Ron looks over and tries to say my name, but his voice gives out. He clears his throat and says it again, "Y/N?"

I chuckle. "Yes, Ronald?"

He looks back up at the stars. "How do you feel right now?"

I hesitate. "Sorry?'

Ron sniffs. "I mean, do you feel different? Than, say you did a year ago?" He asks.

I'm still not entirely sure how to answer. Ron seems to be having an existential crisis of sorts lately. "How do you mean, Ron? I feel different pretty much every day."

He still kept his eyes on the stars. "Personality-wise. Like I said, I've changed a lot since I was a kid. I'm still Ron, but I'm a new Ron."

I smile. The way he talks makes me feel happy, and the way he strings his words together, so simplistic and innocent but still so sadly poetic. "I suppose so, Ron. I change quite a bit, in the ways I view things. But I feel like I'm coming to the end. I'm getting close to the best kind of Y/N," I say. I think back to just last week, snapping at Harry so quickly, and how I wouldn't do that now. Or back when I started dating Luna, how different we became at the end of the relationship. "I hope so, at least. I kind of like where I'm at."

Ron lowers his eyes from the sky down to his shoes. "I think so too. I mean, I like who you are. I think I'm starting to like who I am now too." 

That feeling. Nervousness. Something anxiously bubbling. I reach for him, and gently take Ron's left hand in mine, and my chest tightens. This feels like one of those moments to say something sincere. I gulp back my pride. "For the record, I've always liked you Ron. Every version." I whisper.

Ron finally turns his head. He's looking in my eyes now, for the first time since we walked outside. My stomach takes a nosedive, and twists up somewhere in my pelvis. He smiles at me, the soft one he does, where one side of his mouth goes higher than the other. He takes his right hand, places it gently on my waist, squeezing my hand still with his left. I study him for a moment, as my face gets warmer. I've never really studied Ron so deeply like this, I don't think.  I suddenly don't need Ron's suit coat to keep me warm. I can see his ears turn pink again, but I have no idea why.

"You get better and better every day. But yeah, I like all your versions as well," His mouth twitches as he shyly moves his gaze back to the ground.

Things I notice as I study Ron Weasley: His ginger hair falling slightly over his eyes as he bows his head. His tie is just a bit unruly, hanging off his neck loosely. His light blue button up shirt is just a little too big on his body, but I could still see the definition on his broad shoulders. His black trousers hung low on his hips, because he forgot to wear a belt, no doubt. His hands... I slip my hand out of his, and his left mirrors his right as it falls onto my waist.

I move my hands up to Ron's chest, and rest them just on his shoulders. My heart isn't just racing. It's dancing, it's hula hooping, it's pounding out of my chest. This kind of nervousness is different than the kind I felt with Hermione. Or even Luna, or Dean. This was uncharted territory. 

He still has his eyes on the ground. I move closer, and crouch just a bit so I can look in his eyes.

"Y/N, are you still cold?" He asks in a gruff but soft voice.

I feel a smile slowly working the corners of my lips. "Not anymore, Ron. Actually-"

"OI!" A scream blared across the yard. Ron and I jump apart and search for the source of the noise.

"Over here, you two!" I look towards the house to see George's head, hanging out of a window about halfway up the wall. "You've got a job to do!"

I blink out of a daze. Shit, the apple! I turn to Ron and he looks as if he's just been woken up from a deep sleep. He runs his hands through his hair, looks back over at me before quickly looking away, and starts towards the house. "Right then," he mutters, and slips his hands in his pockets. I follow him awkwardly, and tug his coat off my arms. 

He avoids eye contact as he holds open the front door for me. I pause for a moment, hand him his coat, and walk inside.

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Author's Note: I've got the story done, but I'm going to finish posting it later! I'm going to wait to see if anybody reads it, edit it if I need to, and post the rest of the story within the next week or so.

Thanks for reading!