Stone Cold | Ron X Reader

twenty sixth

"What would you think about moving into my house, after your mum and I are married... Hopefully?" Malcom asked as we turned down the lane to my house.

"I've never been in your house." I said quietly. Malcom gave a little sigh.

"So..." He raised his eyebrows at me, I shrugged.

"I've never been." I shrugged, pushing the front door open.

"Mum!" I called, I heard a clattering noise from her room then she practically fell into the hallway.

"Y/n!" She smiled widely at me, before trying to untangle her foot from something in her room.

"What are you doing?" Malcom put my trunk down, laughing at my mother.

"The purple velvet, it's got a mind of it's own." She closed her bedroom door shaking her head.

"I'll ask again, what are you doing?" Malcom followed us both into the kitchen.

"You know Cathy, down the road Cathy?" We both nodded, Cathy was a loud woman with a huge family.

"Well her daughter Mira needs new robes, she's doing something whimsical or another. Anyway I'm making robes." She said breathlessly, picking up a bowl that was filled with some sort of batter and began mixing.

"Now your making cake for the McGowan's. Do one thing at a time or your head will explode." Malcom shook his head filling up the teapot.

My mum turned to me putting on a deep voice and mimicked him word for word. Malcom rolled his eyes, taking cups from the cupboard.

"The McGowan's?" I asked, unsure what they needed cake for.

"Charlie McGowan, you know him, he delivers the milk. He's married to Aaliyah... well I don't remember her old last name, they're having a little girl in March and they're throwing a little party in two days and they need cake." She rambled then began pouring the mixture into some cake tins.

She had always had lots of random little jobs rather than one specific one. She enjoyed the variety. It wasn't a reliable source of income though, sometimes she would find her self with more money that necessary and others she might as well have been bankrupt. More often the latter.

"Anything else?" Malcom asked, cleaning up the mess she had made.

"Nothing else, today." She smiled, kissing Malcom on the cheek.

"Why are you wearing shorts? It's the middle of winter!" Malcom had just realized her bare legs.

"The velvet, so much velvet, it was to hot." My mum replied, fanning herself with her hand.

"Oh, Christmas presents are on your bed, bring them through." She pointed at my room down the hall. I nodded heading for my bedroom.

The room was the same, the same tatty furniture, the paint on the walls still chipped. I thought about what Malcom said, I wouldn't mind moving out. I loved it here, it was my first real home but I guess I wouldn't mind a second real home.

There was four presents on my bed all different shapes and all wrapped in red paper. I picked them all up, not to heavy and took them into the living room.

"M'lady." I watched Malcom hand my mum her tea, he made her smile.

"Music." He nodded, walking back to the kitchen and turning on the wireless. Last Christmas by Wham began playing. He scoffed.

"It's the twenty sixth." He rolled his eyes, and leant against the counter watching us both. There was only enough room for two on the couch.

"Go on then, open." My mum rushed me.

A necklace, a Gryffindor scarf, a leather jacket and an empty picture frame.

"Pick ten photos and put them in the picture frame, it shows one of them for ten seconds before it changes to the next." Malcom told me, my mum nodded.

"It's great, there's one in his living room." My mum picked up the jacket. She said nothing, then placed it back on the couch.

"Do you know what he wanted to get me for Christmas?" My mum asked sending a false glare at Malcom.

"What did you get?" I asked him, grinning.

"I didn't get it but I suggested a proper table." Malcom raised his hands in the air like he was surrendering.

"A table? That's barbaric! What would we just eat at the table?" I said sarcastically.

"Then what would we used the couch for?" My mum joined in.

"Sitting on." Malcom smiled back.

"The fact that you would even suggest such a thing brings tears to my eyes." My mum clutched her chest.

"A table, ridiculous." I tutted. We were joking of course but to be honest, we had gotten so used to eating meals on the couch at home, it would seem wrong to eat at a table.

A/n

I liked writing this one,it has a little reference to an earlier chapter. When George and y/n are talking about tables.

Okay bye x