You'd think I was the biggest expert on boys or more specifically brothers
seeing as I have six. But if someone were to ask me what a brother is,
I wouldn't know what to tell them because I myself do not know what a
brother is. Now, before Ron starts huffing about the
absurdity of my statement and Fred and George look at me incredulously, scandalized.
Before Percy starts tittering about rudeness and respect, before Bill looks
at me confusedly, and even before Charlie gets a tiny
smile on his face like he knows what others don't and can tell I'm leading up
to something, I'd like to make a point.
I used to ask my mother about my uncles and she would smile or roll her eyes
or sigh exhaustedly or even call them 'those hooligans'. When I asked my dad
about his brothers he would tell me tales of their childhood
adventures, trials and tribulations, quarrels and spats, embraces and smiles.
When people ask me about my brothers I don't know what to say. Many people
think this is because I have so many, but I think it is because I ponder what
makes them my brothers. Is it blood that makes someone your brother? Or another
Even when I was first born I never saw much of Bill and Charlie; they were
at Hogwarts most of the year and when they came home it was never long enough.
I always knew they were my brothers and loved them unconditionally, but they
were mostly like a toy that never loses its appeal because it's not always there.
Percy was always more subdued than the rest, preferring
a secluded corner in which he could read a book or plan his glorious life. Unfortunately
or maybe fortunately for him, in a house with rambunctious boys, mini explosions
and constant yelling, someone quiet is easily overlooked.
I loved him though we weren't always close but there were always those little
quiet moments where he would play with me or cuddle me to sleep while telling
me stories, making my memories of those moments even more precious.
Fred and George. Besides their names there are no words to even begin to explain
who they are. Always the life of the party, those two are. Pranksters to the
core and brilliant beyond all means measured in this school. They have a natural
charisma, an energy that draws people to them like a magnet. They have the ability
to make me laugh and I know that even when they are teasing me they wouldn't
let a thing hurt me. Yes they tormented me when I was little, they still do
now. Continuing to do so doesn't mean I won't remember times when they would
take my bear and turn its head into a snake's, dye my hair blue or even hang
me upside down from the cherry tree. And although they will never forgive me
if I tell you this, I'm going to anyway: they could be kind and considerate
in ways that most would never think them able. They would have tea parties with
me or hold my hand to cross the street, kiss my booboo's when I got hurt or
just any old thing. I adored them.
I looked up to and admired every brother I had, but Ron was different. He was
my best friend, my confidant, my last defense from the sometimes vicious Fred
and George. He'd put himself in the line of fire even if it meant he would cough
feathers for the next three hours just so I wouldn't have to. I admired him
so much, but his inferiority complex would never let
him see it. He felt overshadowed and never saw the wonderful things that made
him unique. He never saw that I thought he walked on water. He never knew how
much I missed him when he first left for Hogwarts. He never knew how I felt
when he came home that first summer
and never paid me any attention. He never knew why I looked up to him
and why his friends cared for him so much. The simplest way to explain him is
just to say he's Ron. Actually it's the only way to describe him.
I don't think a brother has anything to do with blood. Some people are brothers
by birth who were separated and never felt the loss. Ron and Harry, even if
they won't admit it, are brothers through the soul even if not in blood. It'd
be more accurate to say your brother is someone you have a connection with.
Even though Bill and Charlie weren't around, I had a
connection with both of them. My fondest memories of Bill were when he'd come
off the train, drop his bags, bend down to my level, scoop me up in his arms
and fly me around saying how super a girl I was. Charlie, on the other hand,
always knew, always understood my thought process. He knew when I needed someone
to talk to or when I needed the world, and everyone in it, to just go away.
I remember seeing him fly, and
I remember him teaching me to fly. I remember Charlie with the biggest smile
on his face, and that memory is what can make my horrible days become good ones.
Don't think I didn't resent my brothers, at one point in time or another. Lord
knows I did and sometimes still do. Being the youngest
and only girl is hard. When any boy you're interested in or is interested in
you knows that there is a threat of six older brothers who can, and most likely
will, inflict permanent damage if they were to break my heart is a hard thing
to cope with. It was frustrating, more than words can
explain, and I remember quite a few times where Ron would be massaging his cheek
where I had slapped him or Fred and George aghast at the language I used about
them. I resented Bill for not seeing me as anything more than a three-year-old,
in pigtails, rushing into his arms. I resented Charlie
for knowing exactly what I was feeling and being able to sympathize. I resented
Percy for his intelligence, his ambition, for his knowing exactly what he wanted
to do and doing it. I resented the twins for having the ability to tell a joke,
to have people be their friends instantly, for their ability to shrug any insult
and not let it bother them. I resented Ron because he grew up with me not being
the center of his universe.
When I am old, and they are gone, I'll remember each
of them in different ways, hate them and love them for different reasons. My
memories of them are unique and each of them is so different and yet so alike.
Even if I don't know why they are my brothers, I am
lucky to have them. And though I may sometimes wish they would just shrivel
up and die, in truth, I wouldn't give them up for the world. They are my brothers;
there is no denying that. The answer to why they are might be shaky but I know,
even if no one else does, that they are my brothers.
If someone were to ask me what the definition of 'brother' was I still wouldn't
have an explanation. Being a brother has nothing to do with blood but the connection
between two people, their relationship, their past, their knowledge and mutual
love for each other. I don't know what I would answer if someone asked me to
describe my brothers. I certainly could not summon them up in just a word, a
general statement. I know how I'd think of them though. The term 'brothers'
is too broad and there is no real explanation or definition. Mine is only thoughts
Bill: all hugs with coolness radiating off him. A love for the wild side and
home all mixed into one.
Charlie: the keeper of my soul. He who knows me so well. Him smiling, enjoying
Percy: ambitious and strong willed. A softy who is unsure yet so sure. Confused
The Twins: serious pranksters with a love for fun. So brilliant, so underestimated,
so eager. So content.
Ron: my childhood guardian. My beacon of hope. Able to surprise himself and
That's it I guess. Funny that the people who have formed my world's foundation,
the people who built my ideals and beliefs are so hard to describe in words
alone. They are but emotions. They are my brothers.
A/N Thanks is undoubtedly due to Amy for betaing this… She deserves a royal
thank you for I am probably the WORST person to beta for. That said I hope you
enjoyed this and please REVIEW!