Okay, but give me a Hermione Granger who cannot cook for the life of her. She’s done research, she’s taken classes, she’s tried everything and goddamit why can’t she make this work?!
Give me a Ron Weasley who watched his mother cook for years and somehow inherited her uncanny ability to just throw things in a pot and make it taste amazing. Give me a Ron Weasley who tries to teach his wife to cook because she asks him to and rubs her shoulders and fixes the light fixtures when she fails again. Give me a Ron Weasley who wears a “Kiss the cook” apron and makes all the meals for the family. Give me a Ron Weasley who fondly tells Hermione “for Merlin’s sake, you’re the bloody minister of magic, babe, you don’t have to be good at everything.” Give me a Ron Weasley who adores his wife and loves working part-time at the shop with Fred and George (there was a rumour going around that Fred died- this is poppycock. Please ignore it) and decides he loves being a househusband and defying gender roles but in a quieter way than his hurricane of a wife, who’s amazing and in-your-face and gods, he loves her. Give me a Ron who decides that he’s not so fond of the fame and glory that he gained in the war as he thought he would be, and who finally understands why Harry hated it so much in school. Give me a Ronald Weasley who learns to do laundry and mend clothes and keep house and makes lunch for his kids before they go off to muggle primary school and his wife before she goes to work and decides that being his family’s number one favourite person is more than enough. Give me a Ron who has a secret fondness for daytime soap operas when everyone’s out of the house and he’s not at the shop. Give me a Ron who is happy and healthy and realises that he’s so much more than just the sixth child or the leftover, that he’s loved, that he’s enough.
