Holidays away from Hogwarts are always loud when they’re spent at the Burrow. The house is full of chatter, clanging dishes, and Fred and George doing something that absolutely violates at least three Ministry regulations.

Ron’s half listening to his dad ramble about Muggle contraptions in Diagon Alley when he hears it- two Muggles outside the train station, chatting loudly. “…swear to you, mate, cows on that farm love jazz music. Calmest I’ve ever seen ‘em.”

Ron freezes mid step. Farm. Cows. Jazz.

He doesn’t say anything. Just stores it away, because that’s what he does with things that matter. When your birthday finally rolls around, Ron shows up awkwardly early, shoving a small, poorly wrapped package into your hands before you can even say hello.

“Right- before you open it- just listen, yeah?”

He blurts, ears already going pink.

“I know it’s not magical, and I know it’s a bit weird, but-”

You open it. A Jazz CD. You stare at it. Then at him. “…Ron.” He throws his hands up immediately.

“WAIT- okay- so! You live on a farm, yeah? And ages ago I heard these Muggles talking about how cows really like jazz music- don’t ask me why, I don’t understand Muggles- but I figured if it makes the cows happy, it might be useful to you with your animals?”