A March 1 birthday vignette inspired by Seviet's birthday tribute to Ron here
It was Mum's idea to teach Hermione how to knit. I think that secretly, Mum believes in teaching every member of our family how to do it. She even taught Fred and George when they were much younger, though they would deny it now if you asked them. I know the truth, and believe me, my willingness to blackmail them has saved me from many a prank. As for Hermione, Mum is firmly convinced that she will be a member of the family. She hasn't told me this, of course. She hasn't told anyone. But I can see it in her eyes when she watches them - Ron and Hermione - at the table. I'd be lying if I said I don't agree, but frankly, it's just a little creepy to think about right now. We're teenagers. Ron is a git most of the time. Hermione is my friend and Ron is my brother. Still, we consider Hermione a Weasley, just as we think of Harry. You would think Mum had enough kids already. Apparently not.
When I first saw Hermione's eyebrows furrowed over the orange material clicking away in her needles, I assumed she was making more stuff for Dobby and his friends. But then I thought I saw a jumper taking shape.
"What are you making?" I finally asked her. It seemed a good enough reason to put off Charms homework.
Her face got pink. "A jumper... for Ron's birthday present."
I didn't say anything because I didn't know what to say. Only Mum knits stuff for Ron. It seemed like a motherly, old-womanly thing to do. And Hermione should have known that Ron gets so tired of all those jumpers. Still, I didn't want to hurt her feelings, either.
Hermione must have guessed what I was thinking. "I know he always gets them from Mrs. Weasley, but I wanted to make something for him myself. Hand-made presents are the most special, after all. And after he spent so much on that perfume at Christmas..."
"That perfume you've never used," I reminded her.
"It's the thought that counts!" she insisted.
And a good thing, too, I thought, looking at the uneven lines of the jumper. "Unusual" perfume, and a most unusual jumper. Sometimes, before I can banish the thought from my head, I think of their kids one day, and the presents they're doomed to receive.
Harry gave him some kind of broomstick kit, so now I know he won't like my present. Why did I even make it? I should have bought a bag of sweets or offered some kind of homework help or... I don't even want him to unwrap my present now. He laughed when he lifted it up, and even though he said, "The Cannons!" I know it was because the sleeves are just a little crooked, and one's too long. And I know I should have found out what size he wears, but I don't think that would have done much good because I don't know how to knit for a certain size anyway. He's standing up, and he's so tall, and I just know the jumper's wrong, all wrong. Oh -- he just took his shirt off.
The jumper is terribly short and ridiculous, and Harry Potter is an idiot if he thinks I don't know he's snickering behind his hand. But Ron is smiling at me, and orange is a surprisingly good color on him. And the fact that it's too short to hide his stomach is actually kind of.....
It's wrong. All wrong.
She signed it, "Love from Hermione." Love from Hermione. This is the best birthday ever.