Multifandom X Reader Stories

I thought...maybe (Ronald Weasley)

The Burrow had always felt like a warm hug, a cozy haven with its mismatched furniture, delicious scents from Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and the lively chatter of the Weasley family. I was over the moon when Mrs. Weasley invited me to spend the holidays with them. Ron had casually mentioned it during Potions, and I'd practically beamed the whole walk to Charms afterward. I tried to hide my excitement, but being close to Ron was something I always looked forward to. We'd been close for ages, so his invitation felt like a little miracle I'd never get used to.

Hermione and Harry were here too, along with Emma, another girl in our friend group from Hogwarts. Emma wasn't someone I was particularly close with, but we'd shared a few laughs, and she'd always been pleasant enough at school. Or at least I'd thought she was.

The first few days at the Burrow felt like a dream — Ron and I were nearly attached at the hip. Whether it was peeling potatoes in the kitchen or attempting a game of Quidditch out in the snowy garden, he was always there. We'd joke around, laugh too hard at the dumbest things, and every time he nudged me or gave me one of those crooked grins, my heart would skip a beat. Hermione and Harry would roll their eyes at us, and even Ginny had given me a knowing smirk once or twice. But Ron and I? Completely oblivious. Maybe even hopeless.

But as the days went on, something started to change.

Emma became... strange. Whenever I'd try to sit with everyone in the living room, she'd slide in and somehow block me off from the group, whispering inside jokes or steering the conversation toward things I wasn't a part of. I thought I was imagining it at first. Maybe she just didn't like me that much, or maybe she wasn't as close to me as I'd thought. But it got worse. Every time I'd try to join in on a laugh, she'd shoot me a look, one that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

Then, when no one else was around, she started saying things to me that stung deeper than I wanted to admit.

"You know, it's kind of pathetic how you follow Ron around like a lost puppy. He doesn't even notice," she'd said one morning, her tone light but her eyes cold.

I'd blinked, trying to brush it off, but it stayed with me. Maybe I was pathetic, clinging to the possibility that Ron felt the same. Or maybe... maybe I was just fooling myself into believing I fit in with everyone here.

Over the days, Emma's words kept coming. Subtle, biting remarks. I should give Ron some space, she'd say, because I was obviously too clingy. Or I wasn't interesting enough for him, that he was just being polite by sticking around. I tried not to let her words get to me, but they started to chip away at my confidence, little by little. I found myself avoiding Ron, keeping a bit more to myself, pulling away whenever he was near.

The turning point came one evening, after a particularly quiet dinner. I'd barely spoken, feeling like my voice didn't belong. I'd left the table early, retreating to the edge of the staircase to clear my head, but Hermione soon found me there, looking concerned.

"What's going on with you?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry.

I tried to brush it off. "Oh, nothing. Just tired, I guess."

But she narrowed her eyes. "I've seen the way you've been avoiding Ron. And you're not as... yourself, I guess. Is something wrong?"

I bit my lip, hesitating. Hermione was the smartest person I knew, and maybe she'd see through me, see how ridiculous I was being. But her expression softened, and before I could stop myself, I let it spill out.

"Emma's been... she's been saying things," I whispered. "About me. That I'm too clingy, and that Ron doesn't really care about me. That I'm sort of pathetic, I guess."

Hermione's mouth fell open in disbelief, her face turning red with anger. "She did what?"

I cringed, not wanting to cause a fuss. "It's not a big deal, Hermione. Maybe she's right. I mean, maybe I am too clingy."

"Absolutely not!" Hermione's voice rose, and I felt a pang of fear that someone might hear. "Emma's wrong. Completely wrong. You're one of the most genuine, kind people I know. And Ron... Merlin, are you serious? Anyone can see how much he cares about you. Emma's just jealous."

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the hallway. I glanced up, my heart sinking as Ron walked into the room, his expression dark and serious.

"She's not jealous," he said quietly, a fierce look in his eyes. "She's just plain wrong."

My heart hammered, the weight of his gaze making me feel as if I'd been caught out in the open. I shifted uncomfortably, looking away, but he came closer, reaching out to lift my chin gently.

"Hey, look at me." His voice was soft, kind. "Don't listen to anything she said. Not a single word. You're not clingy, or pathetic, or anything else she tried to make you feel. And I'm... I'm really sorry that I didn't notice sooner."

His hand was still under my chin, his touch warm and steady. I swallowed, finding it hard to hold his gaze. "But... what if she's right, Ron? Maybe I'm just... maybe I'm annoying you, always being around..."

Ron's thumb brushed against my cheek, the gentleness of it making my breath hitch. "Do you know how much I look forward to you being around?" he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'd be miserable if you weren't here."

My heart raced, my stomach flipping as his words sank in. He wanted me around. He cared. And for a moment, the hurt that Emma had planted seemed to melt away.

"You're the best part of my day," he added, his cheeks flushed but his gaze unwavering. "I thought you knew that."

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, his words so sincere that they made everything else fade. "Ron... I didn't know. I thought maybe..."

He smiled, and it was that same, familiar grin that made me feel like everything was okay. "You don't have to think," he said. "I'm telling you now. And if Emma ever makes you feel like that again, I'll — well, let's just say she'll wish she hadn't."

I laughed softly, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. "Thank you."

He leaned in, his face close to mine, eyes warm and inviting. "Anytime," he whispered. "I'm always here for you."

And as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, I felt like I was finally exactly where I belonged.