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It is the summer of 1987, and Rhonwen has turned seven five months ago, making her closer to seven-and-a-half in her eyes. Percy turned eleven yesterday, meaning that in nine days, he’ll be going off to Hogwarts and leaving Rhonwen alone, just like Charlie, and Bill (although she had been but a tot when Bill started school).
Rhonwen has been pouting about it very obviously and she thinks everyone has started to get sick of her, besides Ginny who as a little girl very much in her own world cooking up evil schemes, has become accustomed to ignoring her.
Maybe it was simply because she didn’t see Charlie and Bill as much, and Fred and George had always picked on her, but she had always preferred Percy. When Rhonwen was younger, Percy would dote on her and he’s always played with her nicely (or at least, nicer than the twins). Even with Percy growing a bit more haughty over the years, Rhonwen has always wanted to be as perfect as him, look like him especially with his short hair and less flowy and flowery clothes like hers. Last summer, she begged Mum to cut her hair like his, and when she refused she got the twins to do it. Newsflash, that was a disaster that had Mum grounding them all for a month.
Now, with the year having passed, her hair has grown from the scraggly patches before to something light and delicate, curling behind her ears and almost but not quite to her shoulders. She dreads the day it grows long enough to make her truly look feminine, like her mum’s hair.
Mum doesn’t like when she talks like that, acts unruly or copies in her brother’s footsteps, scolding her for acting ‘unladylike’. She doesn’t know why. Bill said it’s because she was Mum’s first daughter, but Ginny came along and she doesn’t cut her hair or cause a ruckus (although she does mess around with them in the mud) so Mum tends to favor her anyway.
Because of Rhonwen annoying the whole house, she’s sending her and Ginny over to the Lovegoods’ house. To be honest, Rhonwen thinks they’re a bit odd, and hates going over there. Maybe it’s because of the creepy and kooky lawn ornaments, or the sour smell from Miss Pandora’s experiments, but she always drags her feet and protests the whole way there. (Or maybe, it’s simply because Mum always brushes her hair and catches her wild hands, telling her that she and Ginny are going to have some actual lady friends, and not just their brothers. After all, girls stick together or something.)
Mum and Miss Pandora chat for a moment, while Ginny and Luna giggle together or something or another. Rhonwen idles on the doorstep, hating everything and everyone and that things aren’t going her way. Her jeans have patchworks of bumblebees and lilies, but she can’t even find happiness in those now. She glares at the little etched designs.
What do you have to play about? Bees sting people, and I’m allergic to lilies, so stop it! The patches, of course, refuse to move an inch. Rhonwen decides the world hates her.
“Be good, Rhon. Look after Ginny and Luna, okay honey?” Mum pinches her cheek, darting away before Rhonwena can bat at her hand.
Pandora waves as Mum leaves, then offers Rhonwen a gentle smile. She shifts, faltering a little about being so mean to her. She’s always liked Miss Pandora, because she’s always been sweet to her and listened when she complained about Mum forcing her to be more ladylike. Even if Rhonwen is angry at Mum, she can’t be angry at Miss Pandora.
“Rhon, can you take the girls outside to play please? Make sure to keep them close.”
Meekly, Rhonwen nods, taking the two girls by the hands to bring them outside. Ginny and Luna are chattering on, something about mythical creatures and quidditch. Nothing particularly interesting. Rhonwen hated babysitting, but as she was the eldest and therefore the wisest, she reluctantly concluded that she was the best fit for the job.
They stepped outside, striding past the lawn ornaments and moving to the backyard, cradled by a thicket of trees. Sunlight still trickled through, hot and menacing, beating the brail of freckles on Rhonwen’s face and arms. Oh, how she hated her freckles. Fred and George always teased her about them, despite them sporting the same angry spots. They called her ‘sasquatch’ and, when nobody else was around, said they looked like ‘shit through a screen door’. Rhonwen didn’t really know what that meant, only that it was bad and that it meant they were making fun of her.
“Rhonnie,” Luna tugged on her hand, blue eyes wide and glistening. Oh, how she hated that nickname. “Come look fo’ nargles with us.”
Rhonwen had no idea what nargles were. But as she was nearly seven-and-a-half, she figured they were something dumb that other little girls had no idea about. Not like when Rhonwen swore she saw large spiders in the forest, because she knew that was true, no matter how much the twins laughed as she stomped her feet in indignation.
“Are those even real?” She asked skeptically.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Of course. Don’t be a dummy.”
Rhonwen burned red. “Shut up. Fine, I’ll help look for your stupid nargles.”
The two girls cheered, dragging her over to a grove of wild mistletoe trees, right next to the nest of dead wasps scattered over the creaky old porch. Rhonwen shuddered, inching away from the nasty little bugs. She hated them almost as much as spiders.
“Look! They’re in there!” Luna exclaimed, pointing her chubby finger wildly at the patch. Rhonwen squinted, unimpressed.
Mosquitoes attacked her skin and Rhonwen scratched, growing more irritated by the second. “I don’t see anything. Are you certain that nargles aren’t fake?”
“Of course they're not fake, my daddy told me all about them.” Luna proclaimed proudly, Ginny nodded excitedly beside her. “In fact, just yesterday they stole my hairpins. How rude!”
Rhonwen took a closer look at the girl, realizing that yes, she was missing her little mismatched butterfly hairpins normally pinning her blonde hair back to her scalp. It just added to a looney look about her. (Maybe she is just scared of things that she doesn’t understand.)
“Well, I’m older and I say you’re wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!” Rhonwen declared, stomping her feet.
Luna seemed to deflate a little at the words, tears brimming in her eyes. Immediately, Ginny dove up to defense, pushing at Rhonwen. “Why are you always so mean, Rhonwen? Go away. Go away! I’m telling Mum when we get back.”
“Fine!” Rhonwen yelled, moving away, even though it wasn’t fine and Ginny had called her ‘Rhonwen’ and Percy was going to be leaving her and everything was wrong, wrong, wrong. But it wasn’t Luna, it was just her. Something was wrong with her.
“I wanna go home!” Rhonwen said, hiding under the table as she burst into the Lovegood house. She heard the two parents chattering, but she didn’t care, sniffling and trying to muffle her sobs into her patch-work pants. She hated everything. Why couldn’t things be fantastical and simple and incredible like nargles?
(She knew why. Because nargles aren’t real, and neither is a reality like that.)
There was the sound of a pair of footsteps leading out to the backyard and then gently, a hand reached out and lifted the corner of the striped tablecloth, Miss Pandora’s long blonde hair sweeping her knees as she crouched to Rhonwen’s level. “Hey honey, what was that about?”
Rhonwen scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve, but the tears kept coming. Afraid of blubbering, she simply shook her head mutely.
Seeming to make a choice in her head, Miss Pandora shifted and crawled under the table to sit next to Rhonwen, bending forward to fit. “That’s fine. You don’t need to tell me. Does this have to do with Ginny and Luna?”
Rhonwen hesitated but eventually shook her head no.
“Hm.. if it’s not that, then could it be something else? The twins? Or… does this have to do with Percy going away soon?”
Shyly, Rhonwen nodded, almost ashamed of her own childishness. She picked at the stitching of the happy flying bumblebee, nodding away, no worries, no stress, no stupid siblings or schools or names.
“I just don’t get it!” Rhonwen burst out, unable to hold the words in anymore. “I mean, why does he have to leave me? Going off to some stupid school… and Mum and Dad are so proud of him, why can’t they be proud of me? I try to be like him, I want to be like him, but Mum doesn’t like that! ‘No, Rhonwen, you can’t cut your hair that short, you’ll look like a boy. Stop messing around with your brothers and act like a lady, Rhonwen. Be more like Ginny, Rhonwen. ’” Rhonwen huffed, out of breath from her outburst.
Miss Pandora was silent for a moment, seemingly pondering over the little girl’s words. Her cracked painted nails tapped wordlessly on her red knees.
“Rhon.. when you say you want to be like Percy, what do you mean?” Miss Pandora spoke slowly, like she was suddenly figuring out where a puzzle piece fit, or how to get a checkmate on her opponent.
Rhonwen shifted, embarrassed now but unwilling to let the silence linger. “I mean.. I want to look like him, with his short hair and non-girly clothes. I don’t want to look like Mum or Ginny or Luna. I don’t want to be…” She didn’t know the words. Or at least, she wasn’t sure how to say it.
“A girl?” Miss Pandora suggested softly, eyes knowing and warm.
Rhonwen nodded eagerly, chubby hands curling into shy fists.
“That’s fine, honey. We can work with that. Let’s see.. what’s a good boy name for you? Lancelot? Galahad?” Rhonwen giggled, shaking her head.
“I like Rhon. Like… Ron, or Ronald, maybe. Ronald Weasley.”
Miss Pandora smiled. “I like that. Now, are you ready to apologize to Ginny and Luna?”
Ron’s ears burned red, remembering his rude and immature behavior from earlier. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Together, the two crawled out from under the table, clinging to each other in a shared understanding.
That wrongness, suddenly, had seemed to slide into place, Ron finally recognizing what had made it so crooked in the first place. He still didn’t want Percy to go, but he didn’t have to be like Percy. Because now he was Ron.
Which, in his opinion, was a lot better than Rhonwen.