Disclaimer: Objects in mirror are larger than they appear. No money. Not mine. ZE END!
Someone was knocking at the door to me and Harry's bedroom. "Who's there?" I mumbled.
The door opened, and Willow's head appeared. "Good morning, sleepyheads. Are you coming down for breakfast or sleeping all week?"
"Sleeping all week," the lump in the next bed, who I assumed was Harry, replied.
I've mentioned I'm a 17 year old male, right? And I've told you the part about 17 year old boys and food, yeah?
"Really, Ron, all things considered," Willow told me as we walked down the stairs, "it turned out quite well. There were some serious injuries, but Madam Pomfrey is certain they'll all heal up within a week or so, either through magic or plain old Slayer healing powers. And issuing everyone a Portkey right back to our little M*A*S*H unit, well, I would give up chocolate to learn how to do that. But not forever. Just a few weeks, maybe..."
Her mentioning spells made me think of something. "What spell did you use to blow up the barn?"
She waved her hand at me. "That wasn't a spell. That was good old-fashioned homemade explosives. A little gunpowder, a little fertilizer, a little snake, and KABLOOEY!" She mimed the blast with her hands. "Graduation Day all over again."
"We're down to one Horcrux, now" I said. "This might actually all be over soon."
Willow reached up and caressed my cheek. "What will you do when it's all over?" She asked.
I flushed, both in embarrassment (woman! touching me! 17 years old!) and because, well, I'd never thought about it. Finally, I choked out, "Whatever Hermione and Harry do, I guess."
She patted my cheek, but her eyes were kind of sad. "You're a good guy, Ron Weasley" she told me, then walked into the kitchen.
I touched my cheek where her hand had been, and wondered what she meant.
Then I smelled the food, and went into the kitchen.
There'd be plenty of time to figure it all out later.
~ The End ~
Author's Note: Wow. This is the most I've written in one sitting in about three years. I really hope that if you got this far, you enjoyed the ride. The funny thing I've found out about writing is that, when you get something finished, you have completely lost all objectivity as to whether or not your story is even interesting, let alone remotely in character or grammatically correct. Good authors are the ones who can take the crit. I do my best to emulate the good authors.
Before you ask, no, I have no idea why it's in Ron's POV. It just came out that way. And yes, I have an idea for a sequel, because 1) gotta kill Wal-Mart... I mean, Voldemort, and 2) I wrote an entire Buffy fic and Xander didn't appear once. I think I may be ill, someone check my temperature. I'd like to write it all at once, like I did with this, but I 'm really hoping I don't have the time (I had the time today because I'm currently unemployed). Remember, though, feedback causes the plot bunnies to procreate like, well... real bunnies. Review early, review often!