~Sequentia~ (Harry Potter Characters x Reader)

Fishing Up Magic [Ron Weasley]

Ron Weasley x Reader

[Theme: Student]

The Forest of Dean is a beautiful place in Gloucestershire. During the spring, countless different species of flowers spread their blossoms and welcome back the returning birds from down south. During the summer, the tall trees provide blissful shade from the scorching sun. The lakes and rivers are abundant with fish. During the autumn, the gorgeous colours of the leaves provide respite for a tortured soul.

During the winter, the land becomes a chilly frostland. Many of the lakes freeze over, and the naked trees leave one exposed. However, the icicles hanging off branches and decorative frost were worth the number of external layers worn.

This winter was no exception in the usual sense. My father and I had been fishing in this forest for years until it was only me. Every year was the same... apart from this one. The visitors were different. The normal children running around with their parents were gone. Those teenagers sneaking out in the depths of the night to listen to music and do drugs had vanished. Even the wildlife was oddly scarce.

Maybe there was something in the air. I didn't visit town as much as I used to since it was inconvenient to have to pack everything up. It could be a cold going around or the police cracking down on the area.

There was one thing lingering in my mind that was out of place—some weird people wearing robes. I remember seeing them so strongly, yet when I think hard about anything in more detail than seeing a figure, it's as if a wall had been built separating my brain from the memory. I wasn't that forgetful... was I?

The thought was shaken from my mind as a certain little creature nudged my elbow, reminding me of where I was. Boxcutter, my faithful companion fox, pulled me to the present as the end of my fishing line began to pull.

"Atta boy, this one's yours!" I yelled, lunging to grab the rod and fight back against the distressed fish trying to get away. Using the techniques my father taught me, I managed to reel the fish in without much trouble whatsoever, despite its larger-than-average size.

Boxcutter tapped his paws on the cold ground happily, mouth open and panting, ready for his dinner. I did my part by removing the hook from the fish and doing the procedure so it was safe to eat. Of course, Boxcutter could eat the fish perfectly raw; I wanted my part as well.

We headed back to my camp, shy of the river. Recently, I had to move because the primary lake I fished at had frozen two nights ago, leaving me to fish in the running river instead. The fire I set up this morning was almost burnt out, so with a few twigs added and blowing on it, the blaze shot back to life.

"Aaaaah," I sighed with relief as I took my gloves off and let the fire warm my fingers. While the cold wasn't much of a bother to me, it was better to be warm than not. Boxcutter lay by the fire, watching the bucket of fish expectantly. Within a few minutes, the fish was set up, leaving me to manually turn it so it was burnt through.

"He looks like one of them, doesn't he?"

"You heard Greyback. Can't keep bringing him Muggles and half-bloods. It's not worth the risk."

There's those voices again, always talking about 'mug-alls' and 'half-bloods.' Honestly, it was getting annoying how loud they were. Boxcutter didn't like them in the slightest, and neither did I. Sometimes, I was tempted to go and lob a rock at them to see if that would get them to stop coming near here, but every time I tried to get close, my head started to hurt. It wasn't worth the hassle.

Their boots stamped on the hard, frozen earth as they left, bringing silence back to the forest. Truthfully, I had no clue where they had come from or where they were going. They often seemed to be heading towards the Misty Dell based on the echoes of their feet. Too many external noises made it impossible without tracking.