Seven Weasley Sins
Seven short drabbles
William Arthur Weasley
Bill always got the best of everything. He was the first born so his robes and books were new and they were his. He was first to go to school so he got the most attention and his parents were the most proud of him when he got on the Quiddish team then made prefect, got perfect owls, made head boy, and received all Os on his NEWTs. Bill always got the most attention and best rewards.
So of course Bill found the most beautiful woman to marry. His mother didn’t like her, but his mother didn’t understand. She wanted him to marry plain old Tonks. Tonks was nice enough certainly and being a metamorphagus meant she was special, but she wasn’t the best. She was clumsy and a bit slow on the up take. She was messy and didn’t care about things, not like Fleur.
Fleur was perfect. She was special. Everyone wanted her, so having her meant something. When they walked down the road everyone looked at her and was jealous because he had her. Fleur understood him as well. She understood that things were important and should be cared for. She was graceful and smart and rich and famous. She had so much and Bill wanted it.
Charles Septimus Weasley
Charlie loved life. That was the only way he could describe why he was never satisfied to sit in his room and read like Bill and Percy, or focus on the minutia of a good plan like the twins. He needed to be outside in the world experiencing it. Outside there was Quiddish and joy of flying so high the clouds wrapped around his face and it was hard to breath. Everyday he got a little higher. And then there was the thrill of diving back to earth; seeing how fast, how close he could drop before he would hit the ground. It was the greatest thrill but it didn’t last long before he needed more.
Charlie tasted heaven in his third year when a pretty girl with cherry flavored chap stick kissed him. The whoosh of his stomach and tingling in his fingers was better than anything he found on a broomstick. He wanted more. He needed to taste the skin of her neck and pink grapefruit nipples on her chest. He delighted in sharp saltiness between her legs and taste of him on her mouth, but she wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
He wanted to try the vanilla lip-gloss that her friend wore and the salty skin of the Ravenclaw keeper. By the time fifth year began Charlie would go weeks without sleeping in his bed, cutting class, when he wasn’t sleeping through it, for a quickie in behind the humpback witch, and listening to Oliver moan his brother’s name while Charlie devoured him after practice. He just loved life and there was never enough of it.
Percy Ignatius Weasley
Percy was simple more intelligent than the rest of them. They were all hebetudinous little people. It was laughable that they presumed to act like he was the one being taken in and deceived. They were so incredibly dense they would take as the gospel truth anything that delirious old man told them. Percy would bet actual money that if the headmaster told his father to jump off a cliff the obtuse fool would launch himself off the nearest precipice and bring the rest of the family along as a bonus.
Percy knew better. He was sure that Harry believed he had seen Voldemort return, but he was participating in a competition he was far to young for and obviously something harrowing had happened, but that didn't mean it was actually Voldemort. And even if it was, Percy wasn't about to asininely traipse to his destruction. He was smart enough get by without the rest of them in any case. He was better off without the lot of cacophonous, brainless, lunatics he had been forced to abode with his entire existence. They were impeding his progress, holding him back. Without them he could be great, he could Minister of Magic, hell, he could take down the Dark Lord himself.
Fred Gideon Weasley
Everybody liked George more. George was the better twin and mummy always gave George better toys and Uncle Bilius always paid more attention to George, and it WASN”T FAIR. So Fred had to make it fair. They were twins and twins should be the same. When George got the better toy Fred broke both of their toys. After all if they were going to be the same he couldn’t have a toy either. When Daddy came home early on Christmas and let George sit on his lap, Fred turned crybaby Ron’s teddy into a spider. Now Daddy had to put George down and play with Ron instead.
Lee had taken an immediate liking to George. He took the bed next to George and with in minutes they were nearly best friends. Fred didn’t like him very much, he was kind of stupid, he didn’t even know what Quiddich was. But he couldn’t let him like George better, so he smiled and tried to be funnier, cleverer, and more charming. It didn’t work, not really. Lots of other people liked Fred and he was more popular, but not to Lee. Girls all like Fred better, Filch thought Fred’s pranks were more trouble (which meant better to Fred), and all the other kids thought Fred was much more interesting. But Lee didn’t. Lee liked George better.
George Fabian Weasley
George watched the sun rise from an armchair in the living room. He watched the cracking wallpaper change from pale blue to burning red, inch by creeping inch until the whole wall was on fire with a new day. George watched the red fade away to orange and eventually to yellow. He watched the shadow of the coffee table inch across the floor.
He noticed the way the morning sun washed out the lines on his mother’s face as she knelt in front of him. She looked a bit younger, until she frowned and the harsh light deepened the shadows of her wrinkles. He noticed the highlights in Ginny’s hair as she stumbled across the room rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
He noticed the mud left to dry and cake on the rug as Charlie came in from garden, turning pale brown under the high sun. He watched the water Ron spilled trickling across the floor and the dark shadows under Ron’s eyes as he pressed the pale green towel into the puddle.
George watched the wet floor shimmer orange in the setting sun. He watched the wallpaper flowers fade with the waning light. He watched the shadow of the coffee table get lost among all the other shadows, disappearing forever.
Ron Bilius Weasley
Sometimes he wanted to hit him. Sometimes he just wanted to smash his fucking face in. It wasn’t that Ron didn’t understand, but that didn’t stop him the nasty little voice telling him to punch Harry in his fucking sanctimonious face. Really, where the fuck did he get off complaining about being so fucking special that the whole goddamn world bent itself to his bloody will. Poor fucking Harry, he has to suffer the horrible indignity of having everything.
Ron bit his lip, holding back the snarling awful truths he wanted to lay into Harry. He wondered if words could leave a mark on the flesh. He hoped so, but he doubted it, so he clenched his fist too, feeling the half moons digging into his palm and tried to listen to Harry. He really tried to pay attention, to feel sorry for him. But at every word that voice was whispering about the bloody unfairness and how Harry never fucking tries. Harry doesn’t even fucking notice. And the words faded away and all Ron could feel was the stinging little pressure points in his palm.
Ginerva Molly Weasley
She wanted him, she always had. She wanted him even before she really understood what it is she wanted from him. She had simply known he was the one and no one else would ever do. When she was younger she had followed him around everywhere but he had taken no notice, instead he spent his time staring at the stupid Chinese girl. That was the kind of girl he liked, well Ginny could be that girl. She could be anything he wanted. She could be smart, she could be experienced, she could funny. If it meant he would be hers she would be anything. So she was. She molded herself perfectly for him and it worked. She had him just as she always wanted.
William Arthur Weasley
Bill always got the best of everything. He was the first born so his robes and books were new and they were his. He was first to go to school so he got the most attention and his parents were the most proud of him when he got on the Quiddish team then made prefect, got perfect owls, made head boy, and received all Os on his NEWTs. Bill always got the most attention and best rewards.
So of course Bill found the most beautiful woman to marry. His mother didn’t like her, but his mother didn’t understand. She wanted him to marry plain old Tonks. Tonks was nice enough certainly and being a metamorphagus meant she was special, but she wasn’t the best. She was clumsy and a bit slow on the up take. She was messy and didn’t care about things, not like Fleur.
Fleur was perfect. She was special. Everyone wanted her, so having her meant something. When they walked down the road everyone looked at her and was jealous because he had her. Fleur understood him as well. She understood that things were important and should be cared for. She was graceful and smart and rich and famous. She had so much and Bill wanted it.
Charles Septimus Weasley
Charlie loved life. That was the only way he could describe why he was never satisfied to sit in his room and read like Bill and Percy, or focus on the minutia of a good plan like the twins. He needed to be outside in the world experiencing it. Outside there was Quiddish and joy of flying so high the clouds wrapped around his face and it was hard to breath. Everyday he got a little higher. And then there was the thrill of diving back to earth; seeing how fast, how close he could drop before he would hit the ground. It was the greatest thrill but it didn’t last long before he needed more.
Charlie tasted heaven in his third year when a pretty girl with cherry flavored chap stick kissed him. The whoosh of his stomach and tingling in his fingers was better than anything he found on a broomstick. He wanted more. He needed to taste the skin of her neck and pink grapefruit nipples on her chest. He delighted in sharp saltiness between her legs and taste of him on her mouth, but she wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
He wanted to try the vanilla lip-gloss that her friend wore and the salty skin of the Ravenclaw keeper. By the time fifth year began Charlie would go weeks without sleeping in his bed, cutting class, when he wasn’t sleeping through it, for a quickie in behind the humpback witch, and listening to Oliver moan his brother’s name while Charlie devoured him after practice. He just loved life and there was never enough of it.
Percy Ignatius Weasley
Percy was simple more intelligent than the rest of them. They were all hebetudinous little people. It was laughable that they presumed to act like he was the one being taken in and deceived. They were so incredibly dense they would take as the gospel truth anything that delirious old man told them. Percy would bet actual money that if the headmaster told his father to jump off a cliff the obtuse fool would launch himself off the nearest precipice and bring the rest of the family along as a bonus.
Percy knew better. He was sure that Harry believed he had seen Voldemort return, but he was participating in a competition he was far to young for and obviously something harrowing had happened, but that didn't mean it was actually Voldemort. And even if it was, Percy wasn't about to asininely traipse to his destruction. He was smart enough get by without the rest of them in any case. He was better off without the lot of cacophonous, brainless, lunatics he had been forced to abode with his entire existence. They were impeding his progress, holding him back. Without them he could be great, he could Minister of Magic, hell, he could take down the Dark Lord himself.
Fred Gideon Weasley
Everybody liked George more. George was the better twin and mummy always gave George better toys and Uncle Bilius always paid more attention to George, and it WASN”T FAIR. So Fred had to make it fair. They were twins and twins should be the same. When George got the better toy Fred broke both of their toys. After all if they were going to be the same he couldn’t have a toy either. When Daddy came home early on Christmas and let George sit on his lap, Fred turned crybaby Ron’s teddy into a spider. Now Daddy had to put George down and play with Ron instead.
Lee had taken an immediate liking to George. He took the bed next to George and with in minutes they were nearly best friends. Fred didn’t like him very much, he was kind of stupid, he didn’t even know what Quiddich was. But he couldn’t let him like George better, so he smiled and tried to be funnier, cleverer, and more charming. It didn’t work, not really. Lots of other people liked Fred and he was more popular, but not to Lee. Girls all like Fred better, Filch thought Fred’s pranks were more trouble (which meant better to Fred), and all the other kids thought Fred was much more interesting. But Lee didn’t. Lee liked George better.
George Fabian Weasley
George watched the sun rise from an armchair in the living room. He watched the cracking wallpaper change from pale blue to burning red, inch by creeping inch until the whole wall was on fire with a new day. George watched the red fade away to orange and eventually to yellow. He watched the shadow of the coffee table inch across the floor.
He noticed the way the morning sun washed out the lines on his mother’s face as she knelt in front of him. She looked a bit younger, until she frowned and the harsh light deepened the shadows of her wrinkles. He noticed the highlights in Ginny’s hair as she stumbled across the room rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
He noticed the mud left to dry and cake on the rug as Charlie came in from garden, turning pale brown under the high sun. He watched the water Ron spilled trickling across the floor and the dark shadows under Ron’s eyes as he pressed the pale green towel into the puddle.
George watched the wet floor shimmer orange in the setting sun. He watched the wallpaper flowers fade with the waning light. He watched the shadow of the coffee table get lost among all the other shadows, disappearing forever.
Ron Bilius Weasley
Sometimes he wanted to hit him. Sometimes he just wanted to smash his fucking face in. It wasn’t that Ron didn’t understand, but that didn’t stop him the nasty little voice telling him to punch Harry in his fucking sanctimonious face. Really, where the fuck did he get off complaining about being so fucking special that the whole goddamn world bent itself to his bloody will. Poor fucking Harry, he has to suffer the horrible indignity of having everything.
Ron bit his lip, holding back the snarling awful truths he wanted to lay into Harry. He wondered if words could leave a mark on the flesh. He hoped so, but he doubted it, so he clenched his fist too, feeling the half moons digging into his palm and tried to listen to Harry. He really tried to pay attention, to feel sorry for him. But at every word that voice was whispering about the bloody unfairness and how Harry never fucking tries. Harry doesn’t even fucking notice. And the words faded away and all Ron could feel was the stinging little pressure points in his palm.
Ginerva Molly Weasley
She wanted him, she always had. She wanted him even before she really understood what it is she wanted from him. She had simply known he was the one and no one else would ever do. When she was younger she had followed him around everywhere but he had taken no notice, instead he spent his time staring at the stupid Chinese girl. That was the kind of girl he liked, well Ginny could be that girl. She could be anything he wanted. She could be smart, she could be experienced, she could funny. If it meant he would be hers she would be anything. So she was. She molded herself perfectly for him and it worked. She had him just as she always wanted.